


Trouty Mouth and the Leprechaun

by jlbassmaster (Airwing)



Category: Glee
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Friendship Turned Love, M/M, Minor OMCs and OFCs, Romance, Sory OTP, serial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 46
Words: 439,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airwing/pseuds/jlbassmaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Evans returns to McKinley and finds a friend in Rory Flanagan that develops into something a little more than just friendship. Originally posted on fanfiction.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1: Welcome Back, Evans

**Author's Note:**

> _Author''s Notes: This is not my first fanfic, but it is my first fic based on a TV show, and using actual human actors as opposed to digital game characters. Glee has quickly become one of my favorite shows, the 2nd season being my favorite thus far, and I was disappointed when Sam was not making a return in season 3. Luckily that will change as of episode 8, but while the show generally makes things all A-Okay by the end of an episode, I wondered what would it be like for Sam to come back and not slide back into the group so easily. This is a mature fic, with lots of change in sexualities for certain characters, and some smut scenes. If gayness bothers you, go read something else._
> 
>  
> 
> **Beta Credits: xxBlaineXKurtxx, G-AnakinRPG**

**Recap** : Last year Sam's dad lost his job and they had to live in a hotel, but over the summer he got a new job and they had to move away, ending his new relationship with Mercedes which was a big secret to begin with, except Kurt and Blaine had their suspicions, but now Mercedes has a new boyfriend who urged her to join the new glee club; Santana finally had a date with Brittany and even held her hand under the napkins and leaving Rory without a date, so Finn asked him to join glee and use his leprechaun voice to sing with them; Mike's dad disowned him because he wants to be a dancer even though his mom is fully supportive and wants him to be happy and at least Tina has a way to cheer him up which his dad would probably be upset about too and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 1: Welcome Back, Evans**

Lima, Ohio, hadn't exactly been the most exciting place in the world, but it had its share of excitement. If someone had told Sam Evans a year ago that he would be singing in a school glee club, he would have called them crazy, but coming to McKinley and befriending the students of the club had been a smart move and an amazing experience. That is what made it all the harder on him when the Evans family had to move away.

Sam's dad had finally gotten word in mid-June that a position he had applied for was accepting him; except the position wasn't in Lima, it was on the other side of Ohio, four hours away. It was exciting to visit a new place, especially when it meant that they could live in a house again. Sharing a small hotel room with his parents and two younger siblings was stressful. There was no privacy whatsoever, and being in such close quarters made it easy for tension to arise. When he wasn't delivering pizzas at his part-time job, he was spending time with Mercedes. Even if they hadn't been dating, he would have enjoyed her company, especially if it got him out of the room.

It was a little disappointing, however, when Mercedes seemed rather indifferent when their relationship ended and he had to leave. He should have known better - relationships in the glee club were like underwear; they changed every day. At least with Santana he was getting sexual release on the regular, unlike Quinn or even Mercedes, who insisted on waiting. In truth she was just a little too insecure about her body compared to his near perfect physique.

One day in November, Mr. Evans came home to announce that they would be returning to Lima – he was being transferred back out there for an even higher position. It meant they could have a nicer home as well as working toward luxuries that they had given up over the past few months. Better still, it meant Sam could rejoin his friends from glee club, the football team, and have an overall perfect senior year. Yes, returning to McKinley was going to be great!

-ooo-

Returning to McKinley wasn't going as great as Sam had hoped. Walking down the halls, he felt like a stranger; the new kid again. Running into the glee club members was even more of a let down.

"Hey, Mike! It's good to see you!" Sam exclaimed as he passed by Mike Chang in the hallway. He turned around to greet him as Tina strolled up to the pair of them, smiling. She gave him a hug and instantly began telling him about the drama that was going down between glee cliubs.

"You can fill him in later, we need to get to study hall. My dad isn't going to be any happier if I get another Asian F. If that happens, we might never reconcile," Mike explained to her.

"Asian F?" Sam asked, confused.

"It's when an Asian kid gets anything lower than an A. He got an A- a couple of weeks ago and his dad threw a fit," Tina replied. "He almost had to quit glee."

"He just expects a lot out of me but he doesn't understand everything I am going through," Mike added. "It's different than when he was our age."

"Sounds pretty serious. I guess we can catch up later then," Sam suggested, raising his hand up to wave at them as they scuttled off to the library.

While Finn seemed genuinely happy that the second-best male lead had returned to take some of the pressure off of him, Rachel was too busy prattling on and on about the her latest solo assignment and making plans for Finn to practice with her. Things would never change between those two - Rachel was moving forward in starting her career and Finn was just along for the ride. She did pause long enough to give him a hug and a welcome, but then returned to her strategizing.

Sam considered seeking out Puck, sure that he would be glad to see the return of another football oriented glee club member, but as he turned the corner he saw him conversing intimately with Quinn. While he doubted they were dating, he could tell that an interruption wouldn't be welcome. Quinn looked a little different as well. It was the way she was carrying herself; it seemed forced, like she was trying to hide something or keep up some sort of appearance. Oh well, he would find out eventually. McKinley was one of the most gossip-filled places in the country.

Perhaps Kurt would have time to say hello. Sam was surprised to see him standing next to his locker with Blaine, the latter decked out in street clothes as opposed to his Dalton uniform.

"Sam! Oh my God when did you get back!" Kurt exclaimed excitedly. He quickly ran up to him and threw his arms around him in a hug, followed by a less colorful but equally genuine welcome from Blaine. It was the best reception he had received yet.

"We got back last week, but were too busy for me to come back to school until now. It's a pain getting a house back together," Sam replied.

"A house? So things are going good for your family then?" Blaine asked with a smile.

"Well obviously things are going better, look at his outfit. American Eagle jeans are not cheap, nor are those sneakers. Did your dad get his job back?" Kurt inquired, pleased to see Sam back in acceptable clothing. Second-hand did not suit him well.

"No, he just got a higher position but it meant we had to transfer back here," Sam explained. He gave a curious look at Blaine. "So... what's with the outfit?"

"Oh I'm not a Warbler anymore. I transferred here at the beginning of the school year. It's been amazing coming here. It's an entirely different environment."

Kurt threw his arm around his boyfriend, grinning. "Don't get it wrong though, he didn't come here for me, he came here for-"

"For me and you," Blaine finished for him. "I'm sorry to run, but we have to get to our next classes. How about you meet us at lunch and we can catch up?"

Sam's eyes lit up. Finally, interaction! "Sure, that sounds great. I'll look for you."

The three teenagers bid their farewells, leaving Sam feeling slightly better now that at least two of his friends were making an effort. So he thought anyway. When lunch came around, he looked all over the cafeteria, but Kurt and Blaine were nowhere to be seen. Sighing, he went outside to the courtyard and sat down at one of the tables, unpacked his lunch, and stared at it. His appetite was hardly there, instead his stomach filled with a sickening feeling of dread and loneliness. He had expected it to be much better coming back, but so far it had all been a big failure. He did take note of Mercedes sitting with a burly black boy that was obviously her new boyfriend. She waved and smiled, but made no effort past that, and he felt uncomfortable approaching her with the overbearing man sitting next to her.

As one would expect, Brittany didn't even remember who he was, and Santana couldn't have cared less. She had given him a sarcastic greeting in math class complete with a remark regarding his 'trouty mouth' and that was all her interest could muster up. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Artie yet, but Sam wasn't exactly expecting miracles there, either. Brooding over his 'comeback' he picked at his sandwich until the bell rang to signal time for the next class.

-ooo-

History class dragged on forever. It was hard to stay awake, and he felt lost. How was he going to catch up?  _Get a grip, Sam. It's only the first day._

Sam turned the hall just in time to see Azimio Adams shove a kid into his locker, knocking all of his books to the floor. Azimio and his friends cheered, walking away as the fretting teen sighed and knelt down to gather his books.

"Those guys are real jerks," Sam said, crouching down to help. He handed the boy one of his books, noting the look of surprise on his face at the act of kindness.

"They sure are," the teen said. He slumped his shoulders under the weight of his items, trying to shove them back into the open locker. His thick Irish accent was unexpected – Sam had never heard an Irish accent before. "Thanks for the help."

Sam grinned at him, mentally noting that he had brilliantly blue eyes, like looking into the ocean. "Hang in there, they leave at the end of the year. See you around, kid!" He waved as he left the befuddled student behind.

-ooo-

_Wow, that was really nice of him. He looks familiar, but I can't place him._  Rory thought, looking after the blonde boy who had helped him with his books. Damned jocks, always picking on him. He hadn't been in the States but a couple months already and he lost count of how many times he had been slammed into a locker, had his books knocked out of his hands, called names, had his accent mocked, and just all around been treated like rotted potatoes. The only friends he had were glee club members, and even those were relatively thin friendships. It was better than nothing at all, however.

Rory sighed. He was seriously beginning to wonder if the exchange student program had been a good idea or not. As he robotically marched off to his last class of the day, he couldn't get the blonde guy out of his head.  _Where the heck have I seen him before? This is going to bother me until I figure it out!_

-ooo-

Sam wasn't entirely sure he was ready to return to the glee club yet. After his less than ideal return, the idea of it almost seemed laughable. It was time for sectionals, anyway, and a new member would probably be an unwelcome intrusion.

As he expected, the entire crew was gathered in the auditorium, practicing their routine for the upcoming competition. He peered through the door, keeping to the side so as not to be noticed. It was strange – Santana, Brittany, Mercedes and Lauren were all missing. Rachel was nowhere to be seen, either, which was almost scary.

Continuing to watch, Sam noticed that Blaine had joined the group, as well as one other person, someone he recognized from earlier in the day. It was the Irish kid he helped in the hallway. He was practicing footwork with Mike, memorizing dance steps with intense concentration.

_Doesn't look like they need me anyway. I wonder if that Irish kid is any good. I bet his accent sounds pretty neat when he sings._ He lost himself in his thoughts, not realizing that the group of performers had finished their rehearsal and left, leaving him standing there, spying on an empty dark room.

-ooo-

_Why is that guy watching us?_  Rory wondered. Out of the corner of his peripheral vision he saw the blonde guy that had helped him in the hall earlier, standing off to the side of the doorframe, trying to stay out of sight.  _Who_ is _he?_ He didn't have too much time to ponder the question, however, as Mike quickly called his attention back to his dance steps.

"You're not quite as clumsy as you think you are," Mike said to him. "Now we just need to get you moving and singing at the same time."

"If I can manage, so can you," Finn piped in from the other side of the stage.

"Thanks, Finn Hudson," Rory replied. He wasn't the only one needing help; they were forced to recruit some of their band members to stand in for missing singers to meet the twelve person requirement. Mike spent the rest of the rehearsal giving the small group step lessons so they wouldn't look quite so foolish.

_Is he going to stand there all day? Why doesn't he just come in and watch? Wait! I know who that is! That's Sam Evans! I thought the others said he left... maybe he's just visiting._

When rehearsal was over, Rory quickly scuttled out of the auditorium's back entrance with everyone else, but then took off toward the hallway, rounding back to the front where Sam was standing. Well, where Sam had been standing - by the time Rory arrived, nobody was there.

-ooo-

Sam felt depressed after his first day back. He fibbed to his parents when he got home, answering their questions with noncommital answers and forcing himself to smile and act cheerful. He spent the rest of the evening in his room, watching  _Avatar_  for the umpteenth time on his laptop while executing his afternoon exercise routine of push ups, sit ups, stretching, and lifting hand weights.

The next day was more of the same for him. Everyone too busy to have time for him. What was worse was that he heard several times other students whispering behind his back, asking each other why he was wearing name brand clothes if his family was so poor, why he was back in the first place. He even heard one girl mention that he probably paid for everything from money he earned as a stripper.

_Really? A stripper? Not in this lifetime._

When it came time for lunch, he didn't even bother to seek anyone out - instead just resigning himself to sitting alone on the stone steps of the courtyard. He sighed, taking his sandwich from the brown paper bag and picking at it like he had the day before. Things had to start looking up, right?

Maybe they would, because right then, a dark haired young man plopped himself down right next to him.

"You're Sam Evans, right?" the young man asked in a thick accent. Sam looked up at him, recognizing him from the day before.

"Uh, yeah. I didn't do it, whatever it is," Sam replied, feigning the smile of someone kidding around.

"You sing, don't you?" Sam nodded in reply. Who was this kid? "I'm Rory Flanagan, newest member of the glee club." Rory held out his hand to shake, grinning widely.

Sam shook his hand and then responded to him. "Nice to meet you, Rory. I'm Sa- Oh wait, you know who I am already."  _Way to make yourself look stupid in front of the new guy._

"Why are you sitting by yourself? You're one of the most popular guys in the glee club," Rory asked, Sam listening very carefully to the Irish accent.

"I uh, it hasn't been the most welcoming return I guess you could say," Sam replied sullenly. "I guess everyone just kind of moved on."

Rory wasn't satisfied with that answer at all. How could people just 'move on' from friends? Friends were supposed to be forever. "Maybe they're just busy right now. Give them a chance, you know?"

"I suppose so. How come you aren't hanging out with them, then?"

"Because you looked like you could use a friend, and Im still making friends myself. I was hoping maybe you wanted to, even though Finn says in America, dudes don't ask other dudes to be their friends, except on-"

"Facebook, and that can take years, right?" Sam finished. "I sent Finn a friend request on Facebook last year and he still hasn't clicked the button." Both guys laughed at that admission. "Silly, right?"

"You can send me one, I'll accept," Rory replied with a smile. By accident, the two boys met eyes for just a moment, and it was right then that Rory's eyes seemed to capture Sam's. They were filled with life and excitement, bright and happy.  _Am I actually staring at this kid's eyes? Or is he staring into mine?_

"Sam? Did you hear me?" Rory asked, dodging his head to the side, breaking Sam's daze.

Sam shook it off, snapping back to the moment. "Huh? Oh, no, I uh... your accent. Can you say it again?"  _What a weak recovery. Good job, dork._

"I asked if you wanted to hang out after glee club tonight," Rory repeated. He may have had a thick accent, but his words were clear; there was no way Sam could have misunderstood him the first time. Damn! How foolish!

"Yeah, sure, that'd be cool." Sam was still in a bit of a daze, but he wasn't sure why. Rory was still smiling at him, his bright eyes signaling genuine interest in Sam. Was the kid just like this; a cheerful and eager person anxious to impress? Oh well, it didn't matter. He was someone to hang out with, and he seemed nice enough. And his eyes were almost magical, capturing his gaze whenever he looked his way.

_Wait, what? Why did I just think that? He's a guy! I'm a guy! We're not supposed to notice stuff like that! Right?_  Sam was lost in his thoughts, wondering exactly what the heck he was considering.

"Maybe we should hang out another day, say tomorrow? You seem like you might need some sleep or something. You're a wee bit out of it my friend," Rory said, obviously concerned. "Or maybe you don't really want to..."

Sam waved his hand. "No, I'm fine. Really. And I do. I do want to hang out."

"Okay. I'll see you in glee club then?" Rory asked. Sam nodded and smiled. "You might want to finish your sandwich. It looks a little roughed up. If I were you, I'd pick a better lunch spot tomorrow, too. It's supposed to rain." He smiled back and waved as he got up and left, going back inside the school building.

Sam turned back to his food, suddenly feeling his appetite return. He was still unsure about what he had been thinking before. Maybe he was just lonely and tired, and that weird thought popped up in his head? No, that wasn't it. Confused, he finished up his sandwich and then hurried on to class.

-ooo-

_Well that was easy. I'm getting better at this making friends thing. He's pretty nice, but a little odd._

"Making friends with the washed up lady lips, Scottie?" came the familiar boom of Azimio Adams' voice from behind him.  _Oh bugger._   _When will they get it through their heads I am Irish and not Scottish?_

Rory tried to ignore him, continuing his path down the hall, but Azimio wasn't having that. "I asked you a question, pixie boy." Nervous, Rory continued to ignore him and walk, but he could sense the agitation coming from the bigger teenager. "Okay, if you're gonna be rude about it!" The jock picked up the pace enough to pass by Rory, then he turned on a heel and sent lime green slushie hurtling at the boy, covering his entire front.

Azimio and his crew stomped off, laughing hysterically at their latest triumph over the foreigner. Rory simply stood there, stunned. It was his first slushie attack, and it upset him so bad he felt he might cry, but then he felt a large hand on his shoulder.

"What an asshole," came Sam's voice. Rory turned his head to look at him. His eyes weren't so bright and happy anymore; instead he had a look on his face that made Sam want to punch someone. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Rory let himself be steered toward the men's room, which was thankfully empty since class started moments before.

"I guess nobody told you that joining glee club is a one way ticket to slushie land?" Sam asked. Rory shook his head, frowning. "Nobody told me either at first. It's that very first slushie that hurts the most." He unraveled several sheets of paper towels and started wiping the syrup off of the boy's shirt. Most of it had already slid down to the floor, but his hair was still sticky with green glop.

"I think some of it ended up down my shirt," Rory observed.

"At least it didn't get down into your underwear. Did it?" Sam inquired as he started trying to pick chunks of colored ice out of the kids hair.

Rory shrugged. He didn't feel anything cold down there, so he assumed not. "I got it, thanks," he said when Sam started to dab at his face with a wet paper towel. He took it from him and started wiping his eyes, making sure none of the syrup got in there.

"Uhm, don't you want to get it out of your shirt first?" Sam asked when Rory looked like he was about to put his backpack on again.

Rory shrugged, set his stuff back down, and pulled off his shirt, revealing a smooth, slender torso streaked with green juice. Sam handed him another wet paper towel.

_Wow, that's some really nice skin..._  Sam thought. He wanted to touch it, but that seemed ludicrous to just reach out and touch some other guys' flesh.  _Why am I thinking about another guy's skin? What does that matter? Why do I want to touch it?_

"Get my back?" Rory asked, turning around. There were two long strips of green stickiness left on his upper back. Sam didn't say anything, but took the towel and wiped gently, taking the opportunity to sense the soft skin.

Rory pulled his shirt back on, checked over his face once more to look for any missed beverage. His clothes were still damp and sticky, but at least it was bearable.

"Thanks, Sam Evans. See you later," the teen said, finally leaving.  _What's with him? It seemed like he was staring at my chest or something._

Sam leaned back against the sink, putting his head in his hand.  _What the hell is going on in my head? Eyes? Skin? I'm checking him out the way I check out girls! I even touched him._

Rory, on the other hand, was just as confused. He had noticed Sam's strange behavior - staring at his eyes, going out of his way to touch him, the way he was looking over his chest.  _Girls don't look at me like that. I wonder why he does. I thought he had dated plenty of girls last year. Maybe he ended up gay or something._

Both boys spent their next class periods distracted from studying, instead thinking about the small interactions they had so far.

-ooo-

Right before last period, Sam went by Blaine's locker, looking for him. Surprisingly, the former Warbler was by himself, picking through books on the shelf. Sam looked around cautiously for signs of Kurt, but saw no sign of the flamboyant teen. He had chosen to talk to Blaine, the more sensible of the two gay men in the school. Kurt was great, but far too much of a gossip for this particular conversation.

"Hey, Blaine, can I talk to you a second?" Sam asked quickly.

"Yeah, hey, sorry about lunch yesterday. Kurt wasn't feeling well, so I took him home," Blaine explained. Sam shook his head and waved it off.

"That's okay, I just wanted to talk to you, privately. You can't even tell Kurt, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. What's going on?" Blaine asked, suspicious. He didn't know Sam very well, but what he knew of him, Sam was a confident kid, not the type to need to keep secrets nor to doubt himself, so what would he be wanting to keep secret, and even more, why share it with him?

"Let's go to the glee room. Nobody will be there right now," Sam suggested. Blaine shrugged his shoulders and the pair walked in silence down the hall to the choir room. They would be late for their next classes, but apparently it was important.

Sam and Blaine ducked into the room, closing the door, and sitting where they would be hidden from view. Blaine could see that Sam was nervous about something. He was a little shaky and seemed jittery.

"So what can I do for you, Sam?" Blaine asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Well, I needed to ask you something, and I don't think Kurt could help me out here," the blonde began. Blaine cocked his head as a signal for him to go on. "How did you know... you know, how did you know that you were, you know?"

"Know? You mean how did I know I was gay?" the brunette asked, deciphering his poorly worded query. Sam nodded. "I just knew. It wasn't really something I questioned."

"You didn't think anything different than usual?"

"Different? I just thought about guys all the time. That wasn't so different to me," Blaine replied.

"You didn't just suddenly look at a guy one day and think 'Hey, his eyes are really pretty,' or 'Wow, that guy has nice skin!'? What about girls? Did you ever look at them before or do anything and then suddenly that changed?"

"Sam, what's going on? Are you...?"

"No!" he said loudly. Embarrassed, he lowered his voice, "No. I just thought something and I don't understand it. I was hoping maybe... you could provide some insight."

Blaine put his hand up on Sam's shoulder, an offering of comfort. "What did you think about?"

"I was talking to this guy, and uh, I sort of stared at him. He had really nice eyes, like prettier than any girls I ever saw," Sam explained. "And then I just kind of thought that I wanted to touch him. Oh but not like that, I just mean like touch his skin to see what it felt like."

Blaine gave him a slight smile.  _So the guy is worried he might be gay. That was it?_  Well, he had to remember that it might be more difficult for some guys than it was for himself. "You know that doesn't automatically make you gay, right?"

"But it isn't normal, is it?" he asked, worried his wording might offend the gay man.

"Well, not in the sense of normal for a straight guy. You still like girls, though, don't you?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I mean, they're awesome. Santana especially, I mean she's kind of a bitch but was so much fun in-" he stopped himself mid sentence. "Or you don't want to know that."

"I understand what you mean. Sam, do you think maybe you might be bisexual?" Blaine suggested. He answered Sam's quizzical look with further explanation. "It's not uncommon for someone to be even a little bi curious, Sam. Sexuality is pretty fluid - extremes are not that common really."

"So you mean I might be straight AND gay?" Sam verified. Blaine let out a chuckle.

"Well technically you could say that. But bisexual is the preferred term." He paused, both of them sitting in silence for a moment before he decided to press for more information. "Is the guy you were looking at - is he gay?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. I mean I didn't ask or anything," Sam answered sullenly. When Blaine inquired as to who it was, Sam quickly stopped giving answers. "No no no no no, there is no way I am telling. If it ever got out in any way-"

"Sam, I won't tell anyone. I promise you. Not even Kurt. I wouldn't do that to somebody, ever."

Sam studied him for several seconds, weighing the options. "Is it a glee guy?" Blaine asked. Sam very slowly, almost painfully, nodded his head. "Rory Flanagan?"

Sam's face fell.  _Damn! He got that right on the nose! Am I that obvious?_

"You said pretty eyes, and he has the nicest eyes in glee, so it had to be him." Sam said nothing but stared at his feet. "You do know he's staying with Brittany, right?"

"Yeah. He said something about asking her out but she said no, so I guess he isn't on your team anyway," Sam said sadly. He felt weird, feeling upset that another guy wasn't interested in him.  _If Kurt ever knew about this, I would never hear the end of it. Ever._

"That's no guarantee of anything, Sam. Ever hear of a beard? No, probably not. Well anyway it could be a front. Or he could be bisexual, or like you, unsure of what he's feeling. You want my advice?"

"Well yeah, that's why I came to talk to you," Sam replied.

"Just hang out with him. As the friendship grows, you'll both open up more, and maybe your feelings will start to make sense and you can even approach him about it. Just relax and be yourself," Blaine answered. "You're a cool guy, Sam. He'll see it, and if he's into guys, he'll see something else, too."

Sam put his hands up in front of himself. "Whoa whoa, not ready for that kind of thing yet, dude. Still working things out in my head and all, not ready to be getting naked with a guy."

Blaine laughed. "That's not what I meant. I meant he would see that something inside you that makes you desirable to someone else. Your passion, or heart, or whatever you want to call it. It's that thing that makes someone else want to know you on a deeper level."

The blonde nodded, understanding what the other guy was telling him. "Thanks, Blaine. I appreciate it. We better get to class, you know?" he reminded him, not sure where to take the conversation next, and anxious to get the day over with.

"No problem. Anytime."

Later that afternoon as Sam sat in English class, trying not to fall asleep as the teacher droned on and on, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. Stealthily he snuck it into his lap and pushed the button. He had a new text message, from Blaine.

"Courage," it read. Little did Sam know that Blaine had done the same thing when Kurt needed it most as well.

-ooo-

Sam's first day back at the glee club was only slightly better than the rest of his day. Once the other members had nowhere else to escape to, they finally paid some attention to him. Sam learned that Artie had become director of the musical that had just wrapped up, and that he was also taking on responsibilities as a back up for Mr. Schuester. He was still singing with the rest of them, but he was taking much more of a leadership position.

Walking into the auditorium, Mr. Schuester immediately noticed the new arrival. He welcomed Sam back and for the second time that day, he felt like he might actually have been missed.

Mr. Schuester wasted no time in getting right to the point. "Sectionals is Friday night at eight. That means no more goofing off, get it together. We're down Rachel, so we have to make up for her."

"What about me, Mr. Schue?" Sam asked. "I know it's kind of late in the game, but-"

"That just means you will have to work extra hard to get it down by Friday if you want to be part of the performance," the teacher replied.

Sam smiled confidently. "You bet I do!"

"I can't give you any solos though. We've already got those figured out."

Finn piped up just then. "Sam can have one of mine, Mr. Schue. I can spare one for an old friend."

Sam glanced at Finn and gave him a polite nod. "Thanks, man."

Mr. Schue clapped his hands together. "Okay, you two figure it out. Tomorrow is dress rehearsal and I need everything perfect."

"Here, you can have this, I don't need it," Kurt offered, handing Sam some sheets of lyrics for the songs they were to be singing.

_"ABC, Control,_  and  _Man in the Mirror_? Not bad. Thanks, Kurt." He started reading over the lyrics, most of which he was familiar with. He was going to be doing primarily background vocals anyway, so it wouldn't be a disaster if something was a tiny bit off. Mike was next to offer his assistance, taking Sam to join his rag tag group of would-be dancers, spending the rest of the session learning the dance steps for the performance.

-ooo-

"This is good, we were already going to hang out after school, now we can work on getting you caught up too," Rory exclaimed excitedly.

"Yeah, that's cool. Uh, where do you wanna go to hang out?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure Brittany wouldn't mind if we sang in my room, but how about we go get something to eat first?" Rory was smiling at him with his big toothy grin. He radiated cheerfulness and life. Sam couldn't help but feel uplifted by him.

"Sure why not? We'll go to this place in the mall. It's cheap but good," the blonde suggested.

"Can we take your car, Sam?" the younger boy asked as if he were referring a Mercedes Benz or BMW.

"I don't have a car, but my parents let me drive theirs to school and back. It's nothing special, so don't act excited."

"I'm just excited to go somewhere and do something fun. Brittany is still mad at me for the leprechaun charade so she hasn't exactly been too keen on including me in her activities," the Irish boy admitted sadly.

Sam clapped him on the back. "Yeah well, Brittany is... well she's Brittany. Come on, let's get going. I need to get out of here for the day anyway." Rory agreed and within a half hour they had arrived at the McKinley Mall, enjoying burgers and fries.

"You don't know how much I love this American food," Rory said between bites of greasy beef and cheese.

"It's just a cheeseburger," Sam replied, naive to the fact that his new friend was from another country, and everything in the USA was new to him, and fascinating.

"But it's a good cheeseburger. Did I tell you I spent my first day in school picking out marshmallows from Lucky Charms to make a whole box of nothing but marshmallows for Brittany? She thought I was a leprechaun then. She even thought nobody else could see me."

"Seriously? You like her that much?"

"She said I could get into her pot of gold. I'm still a virgin, I thought maybe she would change that," Rory admitted.

"Okay, first thing - Brittany has made sure a lot of people aren't virgins anymore. She's got a lot of mileage. Maybe try to find a nice girl, one who isn't so loose with her morals," Sam suggested, fishing around just slightly as to how the boy would respond to his remarks.

"I got that eventually. She's a nice girl, but too many people take advantage of her."

"Only because she encourages them," Sam said, brushing his hair from his face. He needed to get a haircut again. "Find a nice girl, okay?"

"I don't think I want to anymore," Rory replied matter-of-factly. "That's not what I really wanted in the first place. I just wanted to lose my virginity like everyone else."

"Don't lose it just for the sake of losing it. At least do it with someone who means something to you," Sam said, reflecting on his relationships in the past year. Santana was the only one who 'put out,' and she was very good at it, but aside from tearing down others, that was all she was good at. Sometimes he wished he had held out for someone with a little more meaning.

"I think there's better opportunity somewhere else anyway," the former-leprechaun stated ambiguously. Sam cocked his head, unsure how to take that remark. "I just mean there might be better people to take interest in."

"Oh okay. Anybody in mind?" Rory quickly replied in the negative, his answer far too fast to be legit. It looked like he did in fact have someone in mind, but why would he keep it to himself? Sam opted to let it go, and perhaps he would open up about it later.

Sam decided to change the subject to something slightly less awkward and expressed a desire to know more about Rory's Irish homeland.

"Only if you tell me about the south. Everyone says it's a different world down there."

"It's not that different, just accents and slang. And chivalry." Despite Sam's attempts to show genuine interest in Rory's recollections of his home land, he couldn't help but get lost in the teen's ocean blue eyes. He started to realize that he was staring, but at some point he actually stopped caring.  _Who could he be jonesing for? Wouldn't it be funny if- oh stop that, Sam, get a grip._

"Sam?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I'm listening, really. I just kind of look spaced out because I haven't gotten much sleep since I got back."  _Shut up, just stop making excuses_ , he told himself.

"It's okay. You need to get some rest. Maybe you should get home."

"Yeah, maybe."

The two teenagers finished their dinner, stopped in the music store, and then went on home. As Sam lay back in his bed, he closed his eyes and the first thing that popped in his head was Rory's bright eyes. What was it about him that made him such an attractive person? He was nice, cheerful, gracious. He insisted on buying their meal, even stating that it was an honor to treat Sam. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was just idolization Rory had for him. Nothing else. Sam was just reading into it what he wanted to. The boy just looked up to him, that was all.

The former-quarterback sighed, then decided it was time to get the rest he had been talking about. He tossed his shirt and pants on the floor, climbing under the covers in his boxer-briefs and closing his eyes. It only took him a minute to fall asleep, and when he did, he dreamt of only one thing: Rory.

In his dream, they were singing in front of the rest of the glee club, except the others were there too - Mercedes, Brittany, Santana, and even Zizes. Instead of singing together, they were singing ballads to each other. He couldn't pick out the songs themselves, they were a blur, but somehow he knew that they were songs of affection; his own more romantic, while Rory's song expressed desire for something. Something... pleasurable. When Sam woke up the next morning he found himself in dire need of a cold shower.  _Why the hell am I getting turned on by dreams about a guy? And why am I dreaming about singing silly love songs to each other? Oh God what's going on with me? Girls, guys, what the hell do I want? I'm so confused._

Sam got up and showered, a cold one, and then finished getting ready. He spent more time than usual picking out his clothes, as if there was someone he wanted to look nice for. He shook the thought out of his mind and settled on jeans and a baseball-style green and white shirt, grabbed an apple off of the table on his way out the door, and set off to school.

-ooo-

Rory was waiting patiently next to Sam's locker when he arrived. "A little touch of Ireland today I see," he observed.

"Huh?" Rory's comment went right over the blonde's head.

"You're wearing green. You know, the color of my country, the one everybody assumes we wear all the time," Rory explained with a chuckle. "I'm just teasing you."

Sam smiled nervously. "Yeah, sorry, didn't sleep good again. Still a little out of it."

Rory playfully put the back of his hand on Sam's forehead as if feeling for a fever. "No, you don't feel warm. Maybe you just need some sleeping pills."

"So boys, all caught up?" Blaine asked, resting his arms on both Sam and Rory's shoulders as he seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Mostly," Sam replied. In truth, they hadn't even discussed the performance, let alone worked on it. He would just wing it.

"We're going to blow Troubletones out of the sea!" Rory exclaimed confidently. "We can't lose when Sam Evans is on our team!" Sam blushed at the compliment. He wasn't used to someone so openly praising or idolizing him. As he tried to avert his eyes, he noticed a knowing smile on Blaine's face.

Blaine clapped them both on the back and excused himself, needing to meet Kurt before first period. "He's so nice. Maybe he will be my friend too. Do you think so?" Rory asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't see why not. You kind of are friends already anyway. That's how glee club works. Everyone's friends with everyone else."  _Or that's how it used to be. Now it seems like everyone is too busy to worry about anything but themselves. Technically, everyone dates everyone else, too, like Stevie Nicks._

Things were a little better by midweek. Sam managed to have an actual conversation with Finn, and even suggested hanging out, but apparently Finn was working at Burt Hummel's garage after school for some extra money.

He had no desire whatsoever to spend time with Rachel - just talking to her for more than five minutes was enough to give him a headache. She was just so self obsessed. Everything in her world was just that - all about her. That's why there was a second glee club, according to Mercedes when they talked before chemistry. Mercedes was tired of what she called 'The Rachel Berry Show" and wanted more exposure for not only herself but the other talented members who were often overshadowed in favor of the brunette diva.

Puck and Quinn were still unapproachable. Every time Sam saw them, they were having what looked like very private conversations, and often could be seen running off to the secondary choir room to see the director. At first he wondered if they were two timing the groups, but through the grapevine (A.K.A. Jacob Ben Israel) he learned that Quinn was trying to actually be a responsible mother. Of course Jacob had no faith and was anxious to catch her failures on camera if at all possible.

"Hey," Tina poked him in the back with her pen. "Why don't you come sit with me and Mike at lunch?" she asked. Sam agreed under the condition that Rory could come too. He enjoyed 'Asian Fusion' as they were dubbed by friend and foe alike. They were often cheerful and always friendly, an overall positive vibe radiating from them that he was sure would lighten his mood.

Sam's mind began to wander, once again toward his new friend. He kept picturing the smiling face, the shining blue eyes, full lips, his accent. Listening to the boy speak was pure ear candy. Coming from the south, Sam was used to thick drawls, so to him, an Irish accent seemed all the more exotic. It was also interesting that when Rory sang, it almost appeared like the accent disappeared, a phenomenon that to him was fascinating. The more he thought about him, the more Rory intrigued him.

Suddenly Sam's thoughts shifted to something a little less innocent. He remembered how nice Rory looked when he took off his shirt in the bathroom. He had such smooth unblemished skin. He remembered brushing his fingers up against the boys back as he wiped off the slushie, remembering how it felt beneath his fingertips.

Sam estimated he had very strong legs, remembering that he played soccer back in Ireland. Strong legs that he wanted to touch. He wanted to feel the corded muscle beneath his hands, the tendons and ligaments flexing as his fingers worked the flesh, massaging away the strain of a long practice.

_What the fuck am I thinking_? This was getting worse and worse. He went from admiring his face and voice, to dreaming about singing romantic songs, and now wanting to actually touch him, feel him.

"Something on your mind, man?" Mike asked at lunch. It was just the four of them, Tina and Mike next to each other, Rory and Sam on the other side, sharing the bench.

"Nah, just getting back into the swing of things. Kind of weird coming back in the middle of the semester I guess," Sam fibbed.

"If you need any help, let me know," Mike offered.

"Don't spread yourself too thin, your dad is already having a fit," Tina reminded him. "If you need any help in your classes, ask me, Mike has so much going on he barely has time to breathe."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." They changed the subject to sectionals, discussing their competition and what they thought about the Troubletones. Sam had yet to hear them, but Mercedes and Santana were two very strong voices, and the two of them together would surely be a force to be reckoned with.

After lunch was study hall, which Sam shared with Blaine. Perfect, another chance to talk. Just like the day before, they snuck off to a private spot to chat.

"Any luck? The boy seems extremely admiring of you," Blaine commented with a grin. "If anything, he at least has a lot of respect for you. That's a good start."

"I don't know what kind of luck you think I should have," Sam replied. He went on to explain his dream the night before, and while mentioning the daydream in chemistry, he left out the exact details of what he was thinking of doing with Rory. He simply said that he was 'wanting to be innocently physical.' He also told Blaine about the conversation at the mall, when Rory clammed up on the topic of whom his latest crush was.

"People usually get awkward like that for one of a few reasons. The person they're talking to is the crush, they're just plain shy," Blaine started to explain. "Or they are trying to test the waters and see if its safe to come out."

"You mean he might be trying to hint to me?"

"Yes. I think you should keep hanging out, maybe even drop some hints of your own, see if you can feel him out a little better."

If only Blaine knew exactly how Sam wanted to feel Rory out, he may have chosen his words differently. As before, he thanked his friend for his confidence and silence, and they returned to study hall. Blaine wanted him to be brave, but was Sam brave enough to actually hint to Rory what he wanted to tell him? Only one way to find out. He slid his phone out of his pocket and sent him a text message.

_Meet at my locker after school before we go to glee rehearsal and we can go walk to the auditorium._

In less than a minute he received a reply;

_Sure! I can't wait to hang out again, I had so much fun yesterday! You're the best friend ever, Sam Evans!_

How in the heck was Sam supposed to take that? Pure idolization, or something a little more? Again, only one way to find out.


	2. Episode 2: Three Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta Credits: xxBlaineXKurtxx, G-AnakinRPG**

**Recap:** Sam came back to McKinley with little fanfare and was kind of ignored leaving him depressed, but then he made a new friend that brought him back to the glee club. Sam is totally confused about his feelings for Rory and Blaine thinks he should just go for it, even though Sam thinks maybe he isn't ready for that yet, meanwhile everyone else is busy working on getting ready for sectionals which is at the end of the week and the New Directions actually have to manage a win without Rachel and combat the Troubletones. Luckily Sam and Rory have plenty of time to figure things out for themselves and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 2: Three Wishes**

Sam rounded the corner in the hallway to see Rory standing anxiously at his locker. The way the kid seemed to idolize him it wouldn't have been a surprise if he had stood there waiting ever since he got the text message hours earlier.

"Hi Sam Evans!" the blue eyed admirer said happily.

Sam scratched his head. "You can just call me Sam you know. I'm pretty sure Finn wouldn't mind if you dropped his last name too," he replied with a grin. "Either that or I start calling you by your whole name, too."

Rory blushed a little. "Sorry, it just seemed natural for some reason." Sam smiled and nudged him in the shoulder with his fist.

"No worries. Hey, after rehearsal do you want to go to my house for a while? I can show you my guitar and we can practice our dance steps one last time. I think I might actually have a soccer ball too if you wanted to play," he replied with a goofy grin. Rory's eyes lit up. He hadn't gotten a chance to play sports outside of gym class since he had gotten to America. Brittany's idea of playing ball involved body parts he wasn't about to show her now that he got over his crush on her.

"That would be great. In Ireland we call soccer football. Football is more like rugby. I wonder why Americans changed the names," Rory observed as the pair strolled to the auditorium. Sam shrugged.

They arrived at the auditorium, most of the group already there and in their outfits - black pants (skirts for Quinn and Tina) with white shirts and jackets. The two boys hurried into the dressing room in the back to change and then joined everyone else on the stage for the rehearsal.

-ooo-

After rehearsal, the pair walked out to the parking lot, Rory talking so fast in excitement that Sam couldn't understand two words out of his mouth, with or without an accent. Within fifteen minutes they arrived at Sam's modest home, which was still in a state of disarray from being moved into.

"Excuse the mess, still getting settled in," Sam offered as they went inside. He announced his arrival, his little sister and brother running into the room excitedly.

"Sammy!" the young girl squealed, throwing her arms around her big brother. Stevie stood back, eyeing the stranger smiling at them. "Who is your friend, Sammy?" Stacy asked.

"This is Rory. He's from Ireland," Sam introduced. "We're working on a project together so I need you guys to-"

"Are you a leprechaun?" Stacy interrupted.

"Well, I did grant a wish or two for a friend. I bet I could give you each a wish if you wanted something," Rory told the kids. "But it has to be something reasonable, no gold or ponies, okay?"

"Okay!" Stacy replied excitedly. Rory grinned and tousled her hair before they went upstairs to Sam's room.

"I'm not sure what Stevie thinks of me," Rory said, "but she seems to think I am cool as a cucumber."

"Oh Stevie is just shy around new people. He'll warm up to you. Stacy will be friends with anyone who talks to her. They're good kids."

"She calls you Sammy. That's so cute of her." Sam's face reddened at the comment. Stacy and Stevie were the only ones who ever got away with calling him Sammy.

"Yeah, well, don't get any ideas," Sam replied. "Call me Sammy and you-"

"And what, Sammy? Sammy Evans?" Rory teased, laughing hysterically. Sam threw a pillow at him, hitting him square in the face. That started a pillow fight that left both boys breathing heavily on the floor, out of breath and laughing.

Having recovered, Rory spotted Sam's guitar laying in the case underneath the bed. Without even asking, he dragged it out and popped open the container. "Will you play something?"

Sam took the guitar out of the case and sat on the edge of the bed, lining up his fingers properly. He thought a moment to decide what to play. "This is one of the songs I sang when I did this really stupid thing last year. I called it 'the Justin Bieber Experience.' It got the girls all excited, but yeah, I got over that." Saying no more, he started to play, the keys and lyrics coming back to him almost immediately. Rory sat on the floor, staring up at him, his eyes glazed over as if starstruck.

When Sam finished the song, Rory gave an excited clap and stood up. "That was really good. SAMMY!" He started giggling again. "But you need the hair," he added. He roughed up Sam's locks, trying to brush them forward like the youthful singer he had once imitated, but his hair had grown a little bit longer than those days, and it wasn't turning out right. "Oh well. You get the idea."

"Yeah, I had the hair and the hoodie and all that stuff. The girls loved it," Sam explained, fixing his hair so it was back out of his eyes.

"What about the boys? What did they think?"

"They joined in! All of them. I'm pretty sure anyone who was still a virgin came back the next day without their V-card, the girls were going wild over it."

"What's a V-card?" Rory asked, confused.

Sam smiled at his ignorance to American slang. "A V-card is just what they call it when you're still a virgin. When you lose it, you 'give up your v-card.'"

Rory nodded in understanding, then inquired about the guitar.

"Learning the chords was easy, it was putting them all together that was hard. Lots of trial and error."

"I could never play one of those. I'm too uncoordinated," Rory admitted. "You've seen me try to dance."

Not realizing what he was doing, Sam got up, held out his hand to help his friend up off his feet, and threw the strap over his shoulder. "Nonsense. Give it a try."

"What if I break it?"

"You won't. Here, put your fingers like this," Sam instructed, splaying the teens fingers with his own, placing them on the strings. "Okay, hold the pick with these fingers, and you're going to slide your other hand up and down to control the sound. The note is determined by which strings you're holding down and how far."

Sam had moved behind the boy, reaching around him to help him place his fingers the right way. He couldn't see it, but Rory was blushing. "Okay, we'll play the same song, but slow. I'll help you move your fingers the first time, then you do it on your own, okay?"

"Okay," Rory replied. Sam's fingers were warm. They weren't as rough as most sports players, but they weren't smooth like a girls' either. His touch was surprisingly gentle. Standing so close to each other, he could smell Sam's cologne- faint in the late afternoon, but still intoxicating. He found himself losing focus on the lesson and paying more attention to the man holding him.

"Ready? Rory, I said are you ready?"  _I wonder what has his attention._

"What? Oh yes, sorry, my turn to space out I guess. I'm ready," the teenager apologized. Very slowly, they began to play, Sam moving his fingers up and down the shaft of the instrument, pressing down on top of Rory's fingers here and there, his hands right on top of the younger boy's.

They were both lost in their thoughts they didn't notice they had stopped playing. They were simply standing there, Sam behind Rory, holding the guitar. Without knowing what he was doing, Sam took the guitar by the shaft and set it aside, turning Rory around to face him. They locked eyes, and as if they were magnetic, their bodies got closer until their faces were nose to nose, and then Sam went even further and let his lips press against Rory's.

"I-I'm sorry! I- I don't know what happened, I'm sorry!" Sam cried, snapping out of his trance. He backed away, waiting for a punch that never came, waiting for a slew of swear words coming at him in two languages, but they too never came. He winced when he felt the boy touch him again.

"It's okay. Calm down, it's okay," Rory said, taking Sam's hands in his own. "Here, just sit down on the side of the bed, you look like you're going to pass out or something." He eased Sam down on the bedside and sat next to him, still holding onto his hand. He didn't say anything else, he just leaned on Sam's side, resting his head on the blonde's shoulder.

_What just happened? Did I...? Did we...? Oh my God, we just..._ Sam's mind was racing with questions.  _Why isn't Rory flipping out on me, hitting me, yelling at me, storming out of the house in fury?_  Instead he was sitting next to him on the bedside.

They heard a loud knock on the door as Stacy and Stevie came inside. "We thought of our wishes!" Stacy announced. "Hey, what's wrong Sammy?" she asked, noticing he was in a daze. She also noticed that both boys were still holding hands, but thought nothing of it.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but Rory beat him to it. "He hit his head when we were having a pillow fight. I guess that counts as a knock out, so I win, right?" Sam nodded and rubbed his head with his free hand, going along with the fib.

"You have to tell me what you want, but it has to be a secret, okay? Nobody else can know your wish or else it won't come true," Rory explained. The kids exchanged joyful looks as Stacy grabbed Rory by the hand and dragged him off to her bedroom. He came back a moment later, this time going with Stevie to hear his wish.

"So, what did they want?" Sam asked when he came back for the second time.

"I can't tell you! They won't come true if it isn't a secret," the brunette replied with a smug grin. Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, they're excited."

Before Sam could say anything, Stacy burst back into the room. "Wait! Sammy has to get a wish too!"

"That's right, he does, doesn't he?" Rory grinned, turning to wink at Sam. "I'll have to ask him what he wants, but it has to be a secret, just like yours, okay?"

"Okay! Thank you Leprechaun Rory!" Stacy cried, running back out of the room giggling.

"They sure have a lot of energy," Rory commented. He then turned back to Sam with a devlish grin. "So, Sammy, what IS your wish?"

"For you to stop calling me Sammy," he replied.

"That's not a real wish. Come on, for real, wish for something and I'll make it come true," Rory said, still smiling brightly. That kid sure smiled a lot. "Think real hard."

Sam thought for a moment. There was something he wanted, but he was afraid to ask. He was afraid Rory would say no, and then he'd look like a fool. But, the boy was smiling quite mischievously, and he did say  _anything_ , almost as if he knew what he wanted Sam to ask for. Blaine would tell him to just do it, take a chance, have courage, take the risk.

"Okay, I know what I wish for. I wish, for you, to go on a date with me," Sam stated, trying to appear confident. He expected Rory to turn him down, maybe even insult him, but instead he was pleasantly surprised.

"Okay. Granted. Where do you want to go?"

"No, I asked you out, it's your decision where to go, and it's my treat. My wish was just that you'd go with me," Sam replied.

Rory thought for a moment. He wanted to go to the popular restaurant, BreadstiX, but they were a little expensive, and he had heard the rubbish going around about his friend and his family's financial troubles. "I don't really know."

"How about BreadstiX? It's the best place around here. They bring you endless breadsticks even if you only order a glass of water. It's like a law or something."

Excellent, just where he wanted to go, and since Sam suggested it, he needn't feel guilty about the cost. "Sounds great! When are we going?"

"How about Saturday night. I'll pick you up from Brittany's at six. If she asks, just tell her we're going to go hang out. She'll tell the whole school if she knew it was a date and I'm not quite ready for that yet," Sam explained. Rory agreed – he was having a hard enough time making friends as it is, let alone if it got out he was going on a date with another boy. They spent the rest of the afternoon fiddling around with the guitar and then took a break to play soccer with Stacy and Stevie. Rory still wouldn't tell what they wished for.

-ooo-

"I did it, I can't believe it, but I did it," Sam exclaimed to Blaine the next day.

"Wait, you did what?" he asked, confused.

"I asked him on a date. Well, actually we kind of kissed first, and then I asked him on a date, but-"

"You kissed him? That's brave," Blaine interrupted. "How was it?"

Sam's eyes glowed as he recalled the kiss. It was innocent and simple, yet one of the most wonderful sensations he ever felt. It was different than kissing Quinn, or Santana, or even Brittany the one time they played 'spin the bottle.' He sighed. "It was really nice."

"How did he react?" Blaine inquired with interest. It wasn't the first time he had a straight friend who was suddenly discovering that he may not be as straight as he thinks.

"He seemed just fine. I was showing him how to play my guitar and before I knew it, our faces were really close, and then our lips were touching. I kind of freaked out though. I started apologizing because I thought maybe I made a mistake, but he said he liked it."

"I don't know why, but for some reason I just had this notion that he might be gay. Just a vibe," Blaine said. "So you asked him out?"

"Yeah. It was kind of funny. My sister asked if he was a leprechaun. You'd think she knew Brittany or something. Anyway, he said he would give them each a wish, and then he said I could have one. So I wished for him to go on a date with me, and he agreed."

Blaine smiled. "That is so cute it's disgusting. I love it. So when and where is it?"

"Saturday, at BreadstiX. Don't you dare show up, either!" Sam exclaimed, not wanting to be under the scrutinizing eye of Blaine, or worse yet, fall victim to Kurt's obsessive habit of gossiping and rumor mongering. If Kurt so much as even thought something was going on, everyone in glee club would know, and then the school. That was not something he was ready to deal with. It was already taking a big risk going to BreadstiX, alone with him, but he was looking forward to it.

Blaine laughed and held up his hands. "Don't look at me! I'm not intruding. I just want to hear how it went." Sam agreed to give him the details and then ran off to class.

-ooo-

Sectionals was the first big competition for the local glee clubs, and this year it was going to be at McKinley. Home turf. The only other glee clubs they were competing against were the Unitards and the Troubletones, so their chances were high. Rachel sat in the audience and watched with great anticipation, confident that her team would excel, even if they had to do it without her.

Neither McKinley group batted an eyelash at the Unitards' performance. It was great, sure, but they lacked a certain flair. The Troubletones were next. Santana, Brittany, Mercedes, and some other girls Sam didn't recognize did an amazing mash-up of  _Survivor_  and  _I Will Survive_  that actually made the entire team nervous. They were amazing.

Despite being overwhelmingly great, the Troubletones still fell before New Directions. Their trio of songs and excellent choreography slammed them into the ground, earning a standing ovation. Even Mike's dad, the man who was so adamantly against his son's performing arts abilities, showed up to cheer them on.

"I am incredibly proud of each and every one of you guys!" Mr. Schuester announced back in the dressing area. "We were against some powerful voices, but you guys did amazing. Looks like New Directions reigns supreme." The entire club cheered and hugged each other, celebrating.

After everyone changed back into their street clothes, Mr. Schue treated them to ice cream and pizza, brought in by Miss Pillsbury and Coach Beiste.

"I'm so proud of you!" Emma squealed, clapping her hands after she set down the paper plates, napkins, and spoons.

"You guys ruled! Way to take the bull by the horns and spear the pig!" the coach congratulated, making her trademark pig squealing noise. She was carrying all of the pizzas with two large jugs of ice cream on top.

The entire group stuffed themselves on pizza, ice cream, and sodas, taking excitedly and joking around. Sam finally felt like he was back home, back to old times like last year. Hopefully the comraderie would stay constant and he wouldn't feel so awkward anymore.

_This is so much fun. I didn't realize how much I missed the glee club at home,"_  Rory though, remembering the small singing group that had formed in his church. He was the youngest member - the others being older to middle aged men, but they still had friendly competition with other groups and enjoyed spirited events together. They had thrown him a party when he left - pizza and ice cream.

-ooo-

Saturday morning, Sam woke up, showered, and then set right to work. He had schoolwork to catch up on, chores to do, and most importantly, he had to be prepared for his first date with Rory. He wanted it to be perfect. He had taken Quinn and Santana on dates before, and a couple with Mercedes, but for some reason he wanted this date with Rory to be extra special.

After he finished his chores and homework, he had to pick out an outfit to wear. Never had he been picky about what to wear, but he wanted to look nice, but not too formal. He finally decided on a pair of black slacks and a dark green polo shirt. He took a shower, then did a touch-up shave and made sure to put on deodorant and brush his teeth again. He fixed his hair and put on his clothes, put on a spritz of cologne, triple checked himself in the mirror, and smiled. He felt good.

"Why are you dressed so nice, Sammy?" Stacy asked, peeking around the door.

"I'm just going out with a friend and we're going to a nice place is all," he replied.

"You look really nice. He'll think so, too," she said. Sam paused a moment. Did she just say 'he'? Why would she say that? "Have fun Sammy!" He ruffled her hair as he cut out the light and went downstairs to get the car. He wished he had something nice to pick Rory up in, but it would have to do. He sent him a text message to let him know he was on his way and set off.

-ooo-

Rory spent the day at home, restless and giddy. He had never been on a real date before, with a girl or a guy. He wasn't sure what to wear, what to do, what to say. He knew that it was traditional for a guy to hold open the door for a girl, stand up when she entered the room, pay the bill, even do the asking out.  _What am I supposed to do? Since he asked me out am I supposed to be the girl this time? Does that mean he's the girl next time? I wish I had someone to ask about all this, it sure is confusing!_

Brittany wasn't home when Sam arrived to pick up his date, so thankfully there were no questions to answer. She was visiting Santana, most likely having their own little affair for the evening. Sam still thought it a little odd that Santana was calling herself a lesbian when she had been so into men before. Why didn't she just go with bisexual? The way she had sex with Sam (and many other guys), it was obvious she was enjoying what she did. Oh well, go figure.

"Wow, you look handsome," Rory commented as he came downstairs to greet his escort. Sam blushed a little and ushered him out the door. He even held open the car door for Rory.

"Sorry, this is my first date with a guy, so I'm not really sure what's appropriate etiquette," Sam apologized. Rory smiled and shrugged, satisfied to know that Sam wasn't sure what to do, either. BreadstiX wasn't that far, so they arrived within a few minutes. Sam parked the car and took a deep breath. It was now or never - he had to go through with this date, going out in public with another guy.

Rory could sense his nervousness. "Calm down. I bet nobody even pays any attention to us. For all they know, we're here as just friends or even family. Well, except you don't have an accent and my hair isn't blonde." Sam chuckled as he got out of the car, came around to open the door, and they went inside. Like the gentleman he was aiming to be for the night, he opened the door to the restaurant for him, and even waited until he was sitting down before he took his own seat.

The nervousness they had at first subsided when they stopped worrying about people paying attention to them (nobody was) and they started to just have their own conversation. Rory told him all about Ireland, and even showed off some pictures he had on his phone. Sam was fascinated, having never been out of the country himself. He considered himself a standard southern boy, not worldly wise by any means. Sam in turn told him about his experiences growing up in the south and both of them exchanged stories about their musical backgrounds. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they hardly took time to actually eat their meals. Sam paid the bill, thankful that his father had given him a little money to buy some new clothes and treat himself to something. He was also thankful that BreadstiX was famous for having the most powerful breath mints known to mankind, just in case.

"That was a lot of fun," Rory said. "Thank you so much. It was great. Next time it's my treat though, if you want there to be a next time..."

Sam smiled wide. "Yes, I want there to be a next time. I don't think I had this much actual conversation with Santana and Quinn put together. It's nice." There was silence between them for a few minutes - not the awkward kind, but a comfortable silence as they just sat in the car in the parking lot, reflecting. Sam finally broke the silence, "I don't want this night to end yet. Do you?"

Rory shook his head. "Not really."

"Want to come back to my place for a little while? We can watch a movie if you want. I have a TV in my room," Sam suggested. Rory accepted the invitation without hesitation. As soon as they got to Sam's, they were greeted by the kids. Stacy had insisted on staying up to "make sure Sammy got home from his friend's house on time," so once she saw him and her leprechaun come back, she gave them both hugs, followed by Stevie, and then trotted off to bed, satisfied with her mission being completed. It was only eight-thirty, so they weren't going to bed too late. His parents were heading off to bed themselves. Getting up at five in the morning, working all day, coming home to work on the house, and find time to eat and feed the kids was wearing Mr. and Mrs. Evans out. They bid the boys good night, Mr. Evans asking them to keep the noise down and not stay up too late.

No sooner had Sam locked his bedroom door Rory was already touching him. He closed the distance between them, leaning in to kiss him, putting his hands on Sam's chest as they touched lips. Being a complete virgin, Rory hadn't even kissed anyone before, but he was confident enough to gently slip his tongue into Sam's mouth, massaging the older teen's oral muscle with his own. Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. Giggling shyly, they parted, Sam getting his DVD collection to share. Rory browsed through it half-hazardly, not really caring what they watched. They finally settled on a comedy, sitting back on Sam's bed, making themselves comfortable. The movie started, but neither one of them were paying attention to it. They were lost in their own thoughts.

Sam couldn't stand it anymore. He leaned over and began kissing Rory again, sitting on top of his knees. Passion was burning between them, capturing their attention so deeply that a nuclear bomb couldn't have interrupted. Their hands were getting braver as well. Sam's hands roamed all over the younger boy's back, feeling the muscle there. He wasn't built like Sam, but he still felt good. Before he knew it, his hands were up inside the back of Rory's shirt, his fingers touching the flesh of the boy's back.

They managed to flop over onto their sides, and finally Rory pushed Sam onto his back, sitting on his knees just as had been done to him. His hands quickly yanked Sam's shirt out of his slacks, began roaming all over his chest. Rory felt his friend's abs, then further up to his broad chest. Sam was muscular, Rory feeling only pure strength under his skin. By now, both of them were sweating, and both of them were straining against their pants to contain themselves. At first it seemed strange to feel another guy's erection pressing against him, but Sam found that he actually liked it. It made him throb in his own pants even more, knowing that he was turning his friend on.

"Oh crap, I need to get you home!" Sam exclaimed, taking note of the alarm clock on the night stand as he threw his head back, letting Rory kiss his neck.

"Time sure is mean. I guess you're right though. Mrs. Pierce said not to be out past eleven," Rory said sullenly. They checked their hair, making sure they didn't have the 'freshly ravaged' look of messy hair and clothes out of sorts. The car ride home was quiet, again just holding hands as Sam drove.

When they stopped in the driveway, Rory turned and looked him right in the eyes. "Are you okay with all of this? It's new to me, too. I don't want you to feel pressured, or uncomfortable."

"I'm fine. I'm happy, actually." Rory kissed him one more time, stroking the side of his face with his hand.

"Hey, what's on your ring?" Sam asked, noticing for the first time the silver band on his right hand.

"Oh, it's a Claddagh ring. When the heart is turned this way, it means I'm single. It's kind of a traditional thing in Ireland."

"Oh? So what's it mean if you turn it the other way?"

"That I'm taken, but not married," Rory replied. Sam smiled, took Rory's hand, and pulled off the ring. When he put it back on, it was in the opposite direction that it had been when he slid it off.

"Then I guess it should be like this now, huh?" Sam said almost shyly.

"Mr. Evans, are you asking me to-"

"Yes, will you be my boyfriend?" Sam asked, blushing in the dark. Rory leaned in and kissed him again.

"Absolutely," Rory replied happily. "I guess we can travel this adventure together." He paused for a moment before announcing that he better get in the house.

-ooo-

Having heard a car pull up into the driveway, Brittany got out of her bed and peered out of her bedroom window. Down below on the concrete she saw Rory getting out of the car, then noticed he leaned in to kiss the person inside. It was dark out, so she had trouble seeing inside the car, but she did see short blonde hair that reminded her of someone she knew, but she couldn't place it. She kept watching as her charge walked up the steps to come inside, grinning from ear to ear.  _I wonder who that is in there. It sure isn't me. Maybe it's a girl from Ireland that flew over to visit. If so, that's a long way to go for a night out. I'll have to ask him tomorrow. Hey, look, a Snickers bar..._ she observed, leaning down to pick up the brown log sitting in her cat's litterbox.

-ooo-

_Wow. That was unexepected and amazing. My first date and it went perfectly!_  Rory thought as he quietly padded up the stairs to his room. He looked at the dresser, pictures of his family and friends at home taped up on the mirror edge. His heart sank just a little bit.

_What am I going to tell them at home? I can't just announce over the phone that I..._ He shook the thought out of his head.  _I can worry about that later. I have a chance to be happy so I'll take it._

Grinning to himself, he shucked off his clothes and changed into his pajamas. Before putting his clothes in the laundry, he took a sniff of the front of his shirt - he could smell Sam's cologne mixed in with his own. He sat down on the edge of the bed and then heard a knock on the door.

"Rory are you awake?" Brittany asked.  _Oh gosh, what does she want?_

"No, I'm not," he replied, not thinking about the fact that she would actually take that as truth.

Disappointed, Brittany frowned.  _That's weird how he can talk in his sleep like that._

"Are you sure you're not awake?" she asked.

"I'm sure. I'm asleep. Good night," he called through the door.  _Boy is she as dense as a sack of potatoes or what?_

"Good night," she called back, returning to her room. She took a bite of her candy bar and wrinkled her nose.  _That one sure isn't the same as the one I got out of there a couple of weeks ago. Kind of mushy and smells funny._


	3. Episode 3: Stepping Over the Threshold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta Credits: xxBlaineXKurtxx, G-AnakinRPG**

**Recap:** New Directions kicked ass at Sectionals, and now everyone is happy again, except the Troubletones who are kind of sour they lost, meanwhile Rory met Sam's siblings and offered them wishes except he just wanted to be friends with them and had no interest in their pot of gold, but when Sam asked him out on a date for his wish, suddenly he found an interest in Sam's pot of gold. Now Rory has a boyfriend and so does Sam, but Brittany and Santana don't, because they don't like boys anymore, and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 3: Stepping Over the Threshold**

Sam quietly snuck back into his house, not wanting to wake anyone. He went to his room, locked the door, and took off his clothes. He stood behind the door and looked at his nude form in the mirror.

_Am I everything he is going to want?_  Sam wondered.  _He's already felt my chest, but what if he isn't satisfied with the whole package?_  He ran his hands down his abdomen, checking for any signs of pudginess. In his mind, so much as a pinch of fat was too much. He felt himself blush at the memory of his mother expressing her concern that he might resort to unhealthy dieting or starvation just to look good. Her expression humiliated him, and she never brought it up again.

Halfway down his sides he felt the tiniest bit of a pinch.  _Damn! All that food we ate is definitely going to fatten me up. I better double my workout this week._

While he had never been one to feel inadequate in the locker room, being slightly larger than average, he still had questions.  _Am I going to be enough for him? Does that even matter? I can't ask Blaine about it, that's just too weird. Well, maybe if I just text him._

Sam picked up his phone and pulled up Blaine's number. He wrote him a short text message with the question burning in his mind.

_Do guys worry about, you know, size?_

It was a full ten minutes before he got a reply.

_If the guy is decent, then no. Are you seriously worried about that?_

The comment struck him as funny since it did seem absurd to think about, but Blaine needed to remember that not everyone had experience nor were familiar with the mindset of a guy who likes other guys.

_I guess so, I mean I don't want him to be disappointed._

Blaine replied quicker this time;

_Stop worrying. If Rory likes you, and he obviously does, he won't care what you have down there._

As Sam pondered the response, a second message came through.

_Besides, I heard in the locker room talk that you aren't exactly lacking in that department, so quit stressing about it. Tell me about the date later though, I want details!_

Sam sent him back a quick reply while wondering exactly what 'locker room talk' was supposed to refer to. The only thing he could think of was that Kurt had seen him full frontal last year when he confronted him in the shower about their duet.

_Damn that, I just want Rory here, right now. Man, his hands felt so good. His chest was so smooth…_  Sam kept thinking about their make-out session until his manhood began to rise before him. It looked like he would need a little release before bed.

Laying back on the bed, he closed his eyes, still thinking about the intense kissing and rubbing the two of them had been doing less than an hour earlier. He began to rub his hands over his chest, remembering the soft touch of Rory's hands on his pecs and abs.

He moved his hands further south, one hand gripping his swollen penis while the other continued to massage his stomach. He recalled the feeling of Rory's lips on his own, breathing in his minty fresh breath, replaying his sexy accent from when he whispered to him earlier.

Within minutes, Sam had stroked himself to a powerful orgasm, spurting his seed all over his chest with a series of throbs. He sat up with full intention of getting something to wipe up with, but his head began to swim.  _That was amazing. I have never cum so good by myself in my life!_

Sated and tired, he finally got up, cleaned up, crawled back into bed and drifted into a dreamless sleep, happy that his wish had come true.

-ooo-

Before Sam could even open his mouth upon seeing Blaine, the dark haired teen slipped a DVD case into his hand with a label marked "Science Project."

"What's this?"

"Homework," Blaine answered. "Research material, since you had brought up a certain topic last night, I thought you might need a little education."

Sam gave him a quizzical look. Blaine nodded his head and after a moment, it dawned on the blonde that there were movies on the disc.

"So this is just men?"

"Yes…"  _Wow, he truly is clueless._ Sam's naïveté was one of his endearing traits. While Brittany was just dumb and gullible, Sam simply let things go over his head until someone spelled it out for him. "You can keep that. Watch it, see what interests you. Then you can figure out what you might want to do with him when it gets physical."

Sam's face turned ten shades of red. There is no way in hell he could have had this conversation with Kurt. Kurt barely knew about sex himself, let alone talk about it with a man on man virgin.

"When the time is right, you can always watch it together, or let him take it home and watch it. Just remember, life is not porn. Don't try to make it so. Just relax, and let it happen. It's all about feeling good. Let your-"

"Let your what, what?" a voice interrupted. It was Kurt, referring to Blaine's unfinished instructions.

"Oh nothing, we were just jawflapping," Sam covered quickly. Kurt gave him a look of disbelief, but strangely let it go. "Well, see you guys later. Thanks again, Blaine."

Assured that Sam was now out of earshot, Kurt finally asked, "Thanks for what?"

-ooo-

The day went by agonizingly slow. Lunch took forever to arrive, the only high point of the day since the boys got to see each other for half an hour. After such an intimate evening, it was odd to have to act like nothing was going on. Other dating couples could hold hands, share a quick kiss, even just snuggle up close to each other, but that wasn't an option for the moment.

Sam almost had a heart attack when Tina commented that he and Rory had been spending a lot of time together, giving Mike a knowing glance as she said it, the pair holding back grins.

"I guess it's just been hard for you to get back into the group with everyone being so busy. It's senior year for a lot of the club," she pointed out.

"Maybe, but right now I got this guy to keep me company," Sam said, playfully mussing Rory's carefully styled hair. The younger teenager glared at him with irritation.

"Maybe Sam can discourage those guys from the sports teams from harassing you so much, Rory," Mike added. "If they see you hanging around him, they might realize it's not a good idea to mess with you. Of course we could just toughen you up a bit in the gym."

Mike's comments were laced with humor, but were of genuine concern. He didn't have time to be able to watch out for the kid the way he would like to watch out for a friend. He was barely able to juggle his responsibilities as it was.

"I don't want to fight anyone. I just want to get along and make friends," Rory argued. "I don't exactly have many. Just the three of you, and perhaps Kurt and Blaine."

Tina smiled at him. She had the ability to put people at ease with her demeanor. "Don't feel too bad if you don't get the warm fuzzies from Rachel. The less nice she is to you, the more of a threat she sees you as. Sunshine Corazon anyone?"

"And then there's Santana…" Mike added dully.

"Santana is just a plain bitch," Rory stated flatly. All three of his comrades stopped and stared at him, surprised at his response. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's the truth," Mike agreed. "She has been really horrible to you, and to Finn. More than she usually is to people. She lightened up on Finn after the whole lesbian coming out, but she still is really mean to you."

"She really has been mean," Tina added. She then turned to Sam, "Did you know that she egged a few of her teammates into pelting him with dodgeballs? They were throwing them in his face! It was horrible! His nose was bleeding and all she did was laugh." She put her hand over Rory's, comforting him at the memory.

"Sounds to me like you have every right to call her a bitch, and then some," Sam said, his rage barely hidden in his voice. "I dated her, and she definitely can be downright evil when she wants to be. Part of why we broke up.."

Mike smirked. "Don't forget she is a cheating slut, too." He then received the same stares that Rory had moments before. Neither boy was known for talking so vilely of someone else, and neither was famous for swearing either, however the topic of Santana could bring out the worst in people.

"If she's smart, she'll leave you alone," Sam growled. "I'm not above dealing with her if I have to. I want to know the instant she gives you anymore trouble."

Rory sighed. "I really don't want to make a big deal of it. I just want her to leave me alone. She doesn't have to be nice, she can just ignore me and I'd be fine."

"I have your back, too," Mike offered. Tina threw her arm around him and kissed his cheek, ever the admiring girlfriend.

"Trust me, Rory. If you have Sam on your side, you are set for life. You should have seen what he did to Karofsky when he was harassing Kurt last year," Tina explained. "It was brutal."

It was Sam's turn to smirk as he recalled the event. "I got a black eye and everything. I wanted to tear him up."

Rory was beginning to find himself uncomfortable with the subject matter. Sam had been fine until Santana was brought up, but at least he knew that he had someone watching out for him.  _I wonder if Sam would ever hit her if he had to. No, I don't think he would. He's not like that._

"Subject change!" Rory announced, anxious to move on. The mood lightened when they moved on to discuss the good fortune that had befallen Sam's family. It was the first time Rory had heard him talk openly about the subject, and it was refreshing to see that despite his family's recovery, he wasn't forgetting about the hardship and the strength it gave him.

At the end of lunch, when they all went to their separate classes, Sam told Rory to meet him at his locker and he would give him a ride. It was from then on that it became routine for them to commute together in the afternoons.

-ooo-

Stacy and Stevie were playing in the backyard when Sam arrived home with his precious cargo in tow. As if an alarm was sounded, the children zoomed to the front of the house when they heard the car door slam. Stacy immediately threw her arms around her big brother, and then around Rory.

"Hey guys, we have a project to work on, so we can't play right now, okay?" Sam fibbed. He just wanted some alone time with his new boyfriend. Normally, playing with his siblings was something he enjoyed.

Disappointed, the pair of youngsters ran off to return to their game. The two teenagers went to Sam's room.

"What project do we have?"

"We don't. I just wanted some time with you. You know, just us," Sam explained.

Rory smiled and then sat on Sam's lap in the chair. "So what's on your mind?"

"Santana."

"Sam, I don't want to cause any problems. I just want to be left alone," the Irish boy replied.

"She attacked you. Ganged up on you and hurt you," Sam argued. His voice was again becoming agitated. Rory could feel him tensing beneath him. "If I had been there-"

"Please, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't like you upset. Please lt it go," Rory pleaded. Sam sighed, but nodded in assent. He was rewarded with a kiss that turned into a making out session, complete with under the shirt groping.

After the younger teen was returned home later that evening, Sam finished up his homework, and then remembered he had other study materials that Blaine had given him.

Sam locked his door, turned out the light, put on his headphones, and slipped in the disc. Like any other teenage boy, he was no stranger to porn – except his selections had always been men with women. This was going to be his first foray into men with men.

The first video began, showing two young men no older than eighteen, kissing wildly, tearing off clothing, and letting their hands roam. Sam's jeans began to feel tighter as the arousal began to set in.

Within minutes, he had his pants around his ankles and was steadily stroking himself to orgasm by the time the two boys had gotten down to oral sex. Sated, but still curious, he watched the rest of the video, and then brought up several others, scanning through them quickly.

By midnight he had gotten everything from the disc that he could – two hours of porn, or as Blaine put it, 'educational material.' Tired and worn out after a second orgasm, he crawled into bed, dreaming.

-ooo-

Sam, Rory, Mike, Tina, Finn, Kurt and Blaine were all sitting in the cafeteria, eating lunch. Laughing and talking, they were suddenly interrupted by Santana. She strolled right up to Rory and poked him in the back of the head.

Turning around, he instantly demanded to know what was going on. Santana smirked at him.

"I still have a score to settle with you, kid," she announced, everyone else stopping to face the confrontation.

"What did I do? You already beat me to death with dodge balls," Rory agued.

"Oh that was just the start. I'm not gonna be happy until you're back on a plane, flying home to mommy. You tried to manipulate my girl, 'leprechaun.' She might be willing to get over it, but I don't forgive so easily," she replied, putting her finger in his face.

"I wasn't trying to hurt anybody. I just wanted to make a friend, I didn't mean anything," he replied quietly.

Santana pulled her hand back, then rushed forward, her hand only an inch away from Rory's cheek when she felt a strong grip around her wrist. A grip so strong it felt like her bones were cracking. "Hey what the fuck?"

"You will never touch him again, do you hear me, you ignorant, conceited, double crossing, manipulative little bitch?" Sam's voice boomed loudly in the cafeteria that had suddenly gone very silent.

"What's your problem Sam!" Santana screeched, yanking her wrist back, trying to break free from his vice grip, but to no avail.

"My problem is the way you treat him. You insult him left and right, making fun of his accent and unfamiliarity with American culture. You encourage others to harass him. And then you have your entire group assault him with dodge balls." Sam hissed.

"You weren't even there, cowboy," she hissed back at him, still wriggling her wrist. He finally let go when she was tossing, sending her off balance and sprawling on the floor.

"I think what we need here is a little bit of your own medicine for you," Sam went on. Mike came from the side, rolling up a rack holding several dodgeballs. Sam took one from the rack, staring down at the bully before him. "See you thought it was so funny to gang up on someone. Five to one, was it?" Sam began to hand out the balls; Mike taking one, and Finn, Tina, Kurt, Blaine, and finally giving one to Rory. "The odds aren't quite as even, but this will do."

Santana was still sprawled out on the floor when she felt six large, thick and unforgiving rubber balls slam into her head, one after the other. She was starting to cry, trying to hold back tears, probably more angry and humiliated than hurt. All that was left was Rory. Sam placed him directly in front of the sniffling girl. She looked up at him and began to laugh.

"Kid, you don't have the balls to hit me. Give it your best shot," she taunted.

"Santana, go fuck yourself," Rory said, utter hatred in his voice as he slammed the ball directly into her face, leaving behind a bloodied nose.

Sam awoke from his dream smiling. Never in a million years would he do such a thing to someone; he was far from a bully, but it was so nice to think about getting revenge on Santana when she definitely deserved it. Violence didn't beget violence, however, and it would be much more satisfying to tear the girl down in other ways. Hopefully she would just leave him alone since Finn outed her. She was seeing a talk therapist to help her come to terms with who she was, with dealing with her family. Perhaps that would keep her busy enough to leave everyone else alone. Even still, if she or anyone else bothered Rory, he was prepared to have his back.

-ooo-

"That is one crazy dream you had," Rory told Sam later that day. "I don't think I could ever do something like that, no matter what she's done."

"I don't think I could, either, but it sure was nice to see her get her butt kicked. I can't believe we ever dated," Sam lamented. "She wrote a song for me, called it 'Trouty Mouth.' She sang it in front of everybody. I've never been so embarrassed in my life."

"Trouty Mouth? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's because uhm, my mouth. Kind of looks like a fish, according to her. I just have a big mouth I guess, and very full lips," Sam explained, his face turning red from embarrassment. "I get teased about it a lot. Always have since I was a kid."

"I like your mouth. It gives you a bigger smile, which is never a bad thing," Rory comforted, staring at him with admiration. "I like your lips, too. They're very good for kissing. Soft and tender. Why are you blushing?"

Sam looked down at his feet. He was used to people complimenting his body – he worked hard for his 'abulous abs' and a firm chest. He dieted and exercised regularly, played a lot of sports. But one thing nobody ever commented on was his mouth, unless it was ot make fun of him. It was comforting to know that someone actually liked that part of him, and not just his physique.

"Nobody has ever said anything like that to me before," Sam admitted. Rory smiled his signature grin and then kissed him full on the lips. Sam was too lost in the moment to remember that they were in the hallway.

"Don't worry, nobody saw," Rory assured him. They stared into each other's eyes for several seconds before he asked a question that had been on his mind for a couple of days. "Do you think you will ever want people to know? About… us, or even just… you?"

Sam had been expecting that to come up at some point. The thing is, if others found out he was into guys, it would be devastating to his friends and family and he was just getting his life back together, He didn't want that kind of drama.

"I… don't know," he replied. "I'm not ashamed of you. I'm just scared I guess, about my family."

Rory smiled yet again, his bright eyes putting the older teen at ease. "I know of at least one person who would be supportive." Sam cocked his head, confused. "Stacy's wish. You wanted to know what it was, right?" Sam nodded, unsure where this was going.

"She wished that you would find someone nice to take care of you and make you happy, and she said that it didn't matter if it was a girl or a boy, she just wanted you to be happy."

"Wha? She… but how…?" Sam was speechless. Filled with questions, his mind raced.  _How would she even get the concept of two men together? What would make her say that? Has she said anything to anyone else?_

"That little girl love you more than anyone else in the world, Sam. When she told me that, there was such honesty and love in her eyes it made me tear up," Rory said. "She said she already had everything she wanted." He chuckled at the memory. "I bet you could bring home an elephant for a date and she would be excited for you as long as you were smiling."

Sam began to tear up, his eyes trembling. He wanted to say something, but what? His little sister, barely old enough to handle going to elementary school, made the most selfless wish, and it came true. Her leprechaun made her wish come true.

"Little kids can sense things. They see things we don't. Remember being her age, that everything was so magical with endless possibilities? Nothing mattered as long as everyone was happy at the end of the day," Rory explained. Sam blinked away tears, the emotions overwhelming. Even if Stacy turned out to be the only one in the family to support him, that meant the world.

Rory took his boyfriend's hand and squeezed, then leaned in for a tight hug. It was after school and nobody was around to see them, except the figure around the corner, standing at his locker trying not to listen in on the converstion his friends were having.

Curiosity got the better of Mike, who peered around the corner. When he looked, he saw Rory and Sam, their lips locked. His mouth was agape, having never imagined that Sam would be gay. Sam, the average straight guy who happened to have no game with girls.  _I better not say anything to anyone. He sounds like he isn't ready for people to know. Good for them. If being with another guy makes them happy, then more power to them._

-ooo-

The rest of the week, the glee club was given a short break from commitments as a reward for their win. Regionals wouldn't be until after the new year, and the Christmas holidays were right around the corner, so everyone had enough going on as it was.

At their last meeting of the week, Mr. Schuester announced that they would be getting an assignment at the end of the following week, which would be due right before the winter break. With that said, he adjourned the meeting.

"Those two sure do hang out a lot," Rachel observed to Finn, trying not to stare at Sam and Rory as they gathered their things.

"No kidding. I don't ever see them apart outside of classes," Puck added. "Sam didn't even try to rejoin the football team. He loves football! I don't get it."

"Come on guys, stop reading into it. I'm sure they're just friends. Remember what happened the last time we started making assumptions and starting rumors?" Tina reminded them.

Artie chuckled. "Kurt and Sam were having an affair in a hotel room, with Quinn on the side, even though she was with Finn and Sam is straight. It turned out to be way different and we all felt bad." He was addressing his explanation to Blaine, who wasn't familiar with the drama surrounding the discovery of Sam's family financial troubles.

Finn had nothing of his own to add and simply shrugged, while Mike feigned urgency for the restroom and excused himself. It was going to be more of a challenge keeping mum than he thought. New Directions was famous for their ability to be immersed in each other's business.

"Well I think it's wonderful they want to hang out. We're all so busy, it's hard to fit anyone in our busy schedules!" Rachel added. In Rachel-speak, that meant that she was glad they weren't getting in her way, taking the spotlight from her.

Kurt leaned over to Blaine and whispered, "As much as it pains me to admit, Rachel does have a point. They are spending an extraordinary amount of time in each other's company."

Blaine gulped. He hated lying to Kurt. "Maybe it's just like Rachel said. The rest of us are too busy to-"

"So busy that you don't have time to talk to Sam in the choir room between classes?" Kurt accused. "Now I am not so much of a drama queen as to assume something is going on there – I know it isn't, but something is going on in his pretty bleached little head and I want to know what it is."

Blaine grimaced again. He could lie all the more and claim total ignorance of what he was talking about, but Kurt knew better, and he was a poor liar to boot.

"Oh so you do know something," Kurt insisted when he noted Blaine's reaction. "Has it got to do with the sweet little new kid? He so gets on my nerves with that perfect falsetto! That is _my_  specialty and he just wants to steal it away."

"Kurt, hon, you do it so much better. Your voice was made for high key," Blaine responded, hoping to distract his boyfriend from his train of thought.

"He better accept the fact that those parts are  _mine_. Now where were we? Oh yes, Sam. Spill it, Blaine. I know you know something," Kurt continued to insist.

Blaine tried to talk sense into his boyfriend, but sense so rarely visited Kurt's brain when his mind was set on something. He wanted to know the big secret and he wasn't going to shut up until he found out.

"If it isn't our business then why is he talking to you about it? Come on, I won't tell anyone else," Kurt huffed.

Blaine gave him a half smile. "You're one of the biggest gossips at McKinley next to Brittany and her YouTube show. Well, Rachel too, but that is only if it benefits her in some way. Please let it go."

"Blaine Anderson you tell me right this instant!" Kurt demanded, sounding like an angry mother.

Blaine sighed. "Fine, but you can't tell  _anyone_. I mean it, Kurt. Nobody," Blaine said sternly. Kurt jokingly crossed his heart and nodded. "Sam and Rory are kind of… going out."

Kurt gasped, his mouth hitting the floor. "No! You're kidding me!"

"Shh! Be quiet, Kurt! I swore I wouldn't tell anyone, not even you!" Blaine silenced him with his hand. "Yes, they are going out and now you know so let it go."

"But this is fantastic! We won't be the only openly gay students in the school anymore! Well, there's Santana and Brittany, but since when have they ever been positive role models?"

"No, Kurt, they aren't going public with this. If you tell anyone, it will get out, and could ruin their reputations!" Blaine reminded him, regretting his disclosure. Kurt watched as the two boys made their way to the door at the far end of the hall that led outside. Sam gave him a nod of recognition and a wave. Kurt returned the sentiment with a wink and a smile.

"That means you don't talk to them about it, either," Blaine added.

Kurt shook his head diligently. "Oh no, of course not. Mum's the word and all that," Kurt agreed.

-ooo-

"Hey, Sam, did you know somebody stole your car?" Brittany asked as he and Rory were climbing into his vehicle to leave school for the day. Sam gave her a questioning glare in response. "Yeah, some blonde girl took your car and she's driving Rory around in it. I think they might be dating because Santana told me when you turn your ring inside out, you're taken.

"Blonde girl?" Sam asked.

"Mhmm. She has short blonde hair and a big mouth, kind of like you, but a girl because I saw her kiss Rory the other night. I guess she gave your car back before you got to school," Brittany went on, dead serious.

"Right, I see, well, thanks for the observation. I'll keep a better eye out and lock both doors next time," Sam replied, rolling his eyes as he turned away from her.

Brittany then addressed her charge, "Rory you better tell your girlfriend to stop stealing people's cars. It's not nice and she probably doesn't even put gas in it."

"Uh, right, thanks for that. I'll pass the message on," Rory answered, exchanging a look with Sam that read 'Seriously?'

Brittany walked off, satisfied in her good deed. She hated to see people getting ripped off, and Sam was a nice guy who didn't deserve that, especially since he was poor.

"And to think you had a crush on her," Sam teased once the airheaded girl was out of earshot.

"Be quiet, Sammy. It was an act. I guess, kind of," the younger teen fumbled. "She isn't very bright, is she?"

"What's it like living in her house? I saw on YouTube that she feeds her cat cheese, and rumor has it she still plays with Barbies," Sam inquired. He suddenly burst out in laughter when a mental image came to him of the ditzy girl coming to Rory's room with a Ken doll asking him to play.

Rory chuckled, "You know she wished for her cat to poop candy bars? I put an unwrapped Baby Ruth in his litter box."

"No! Please tell me she didn't…"

"Yep, she ate it." He conveniently left out the fact that he ate the other half, but he knew it was a candy bar, and the box was clean at the time. "I kept wondering if she has tried to eat any more of them."

"If you find out, please don't tell me!" Sam said, screwing up his face. "On second thought… no, still don't tell me."

When they arrived at Sam's house, the place was empty.  _Oh yeah, dad is going to be late and mom took the kids shopping and then going to dinner with dad. They won't be home until at least eight._

"Looks like we have the place to ourselves for a little while," Sam announced. Most teenagers would be jumping for joy, but there really wasn't anything that they needed a lot of privacy for anyway.

"Wanna go swimming?" Sam asked. It was cooling down outside but it was heated and indoor. The house had been a foreclosure, hence the insanely cheap deal they got when they bought the place, otherwise they would never have been able to afford such luxury.

"That sounds fun and all, Sam, but I don't have any trunks."

Sam smirked. "Not a problem. I have an extra pair. Just pull the string tighter and they'll fit fine." Rory shrugged and took the offered shorts. He was used to ones with much shorter legs like his gym shorts, but these went down to his knees. He quickly changed and then joined Sam at the pool.

"Cannonball!" Sam shouted as he took a flying leap into the pool, knees tucked up against his chest. The resulting splash was impressive. Rory followed suit, minus the battle call and with a slightly less impressive splash.

They waded in the shallow end, floating and splashing about before moving to the deeper side. They spent several minutes doing various tricks underwater – handstands, flips and so forth.

Sam yanked on Rory's legs as he came up for air, startling the boy. The younger man got his revenge when he floated face-down, not moving. Sam began to panic after a moment, fearing that he drowned him.

Rory finally couldn't hold his breath any longer and rolled over onto his back, laughing hysterically. Sam threw himself on top of him and pulled him down into the water. A few feet under the surface, he grabbed the kid and pulled him close, kissing him.

Kissing underwater was quite a unique experience. They couldn't take the deeper breaths that often accompany being worked up and quickly had to rise back up for air.

"That was unexpected," Rory giggled. "But fun. I guess since we're in the water that makes you a real trouty mouth!" He began to laugh ore, and Sam would have been upset at being called that stupid name, but hearing Rory say it in his strong accent made it cute.

Rory was about to pull himself up and out of the pool when Sam put his arms on either side of him, blocking his exit. Their lips met once more, the pair kissing feverishly. Facing away from the wall, Rory put his hands on Sam's side to keep himself steady.

Deciding to get slightly more adventurous, Sam let go of the wall with one hand and began to venture downward, his fingers tracing the waistband of the brunette's swim shorts, slipping his finger under it just enough to tug at the soft hairs leading down from his navel.

Still kissing, Rory allowed his hand to do a little exploring of its own. He reached farther south, rubbing Sam's leg and then gently running his hand over his trunks and brushing up against the front of Sam's own trunks. The blonde sucked in a deep breath of air when he felt the sudden sensation in his groin.

"Is it time to take the fish out of water and dry off?" Rory teased. He had a look in his eyes of mischief, as if he were planning something.  _Oh my God, could he be wanting to take things to a slightly more physical level?_ Sam wondered.

"Th-there's towels on the chair over there," Sam pointed. They got out, freezing and hot footing to the towels. After getting their upper bodies warmed up and dried off, they both wrapped the towels around their waists, carefully removed their trunks from underneath, and headed to Sam's room.

No sooner had they shut the door than Sam had locked it. He turned nervously to his boyfriend. "I've never done anything like this before… with a guy I mean," Sam admitted. "But I want to, with you."

"It's the same for me. I haven't even done anything with a girl. A total virgin," the Irish boy replied, blushing. Exchanging nervous smiles, Rory sat in the middle of the bed until Sam pushed him onto his back until they were lying side by side.

"You sure you want to do this? Take this step I mean?" Sam asked, referring to the fact they were about to be naked with each other for the first time. Rory nodded his head and smiled wide, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. Leaning over to kiss him, Sam traced his finger down Rory's chest, to the tucked in towel.

Sam tugged gently at the towel until it unfurled and fell away, exposing Rory's body completely for him. For the first time in his life, Sam saw another man's erect penis, and for the first time, he knew he would enjoy touching another man intimately.

"Are you circumcised?" Sam asked, noting the looser skin around the shaft and head that sat nestled in a small bush of brown hair.

Rory blushed. "No. I hope that's okay," he answered nervously.  _I hadn't thought about that. I hope he isn't turned off._

"It's fine. I just never saw one up close before," the blonde answered, gently running his fingers up and down the shaft. Rory shivered as he felt tiny jolts of pleasure shooting to his groin. He gasped when Sam wrapped his entire hand around it, very slowly sliding up and down, the foreskin gliding smoothly along the head.

_Oh damn, this feels amazing! So much better than my own hand!_ Rory's head swam with erotic sensation.  _I want to touch him back. I want to feel him in my hand, too._

Rory shifted and sat up, pushing Sam onto his back and quickly pulled open Sam's towel. His eyes widened, half-surprised by the larger erection he saw. He had felt it straining against Sam's pants before when they were making out, but seeing it in its full glory was different.

Rory wrapped his hand around it and started to stroke ever so carefully. Having only touched his own, he was a little apprehensive about how hard he should stroke him since the skin wasn't as loose, the older man being circumcised and the skin being tighter.

Sam took his hand and squeezed a little, urging him to grip a little harder. "I don't want to hurt you," Rory said.

"You won't," he replied with a sly smile. Rory squeezed his fist tighter and stroked, pausing to rub his thumb over the head.

"Wow, that feels amazing," Sam said under his breath. Rory straddled him, still gripping his penis but leaning down to kiss him. Sam put his hands on Rory's smooth ass and squeezed the cheeks tight, massaging. He groaned as his butt was touched. He let go of Sam's dick and ran his hands all over his boyfriend's muscular chest, pinching his nipples and kissing his trouty lips.

Parting mouths, Sam whispered something to him. "There's something… I want to… try something."  _How embarrassing. I never had to say this to a girl, she always knew what I wanted to do._

"Yeah. Go ahead, I trust you," Rory whispered back. They had no reason to be quiet but there was a certain romance to it. They traded places, Rory on his back again, Sam on all fours over top of him. Taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do, he started planting kisses on his mate's chest, licking and nibbling his nipples and then licking down to his navel.

Rory was panting, the pleasure intense. He never had considered playing with his nipples before, and the new sensation was wonderful.

_Should I see if he's okay?_ Sam asked himself.  _Nah, he's loving it. Damn, am I really going to do this?_  Sam gulped.  _Yeah, I wanna do it. I wanna do this with him._  He breathed in the clean scent of his lover's most private region.

Sam's mouth hovered over the throbbing erection, then stuck out his tongue, licking drops of precum off the tip of it.  _That's not too bad. Kind of salty._  He finally leapt off the precipice, and pulling back the foreskin, he lowered his mouth until the organ was halfway in his mouth.

It was strange at first, to feel the member on his tongue. It was nothing like a woman's parts. His mouth felt full, having to extend his jaw the best he could to accommodate the organ. He slowly massaged the underside with his tongue. In a way it was like kissing, except with a hard cock instead of another tongue.

Sam lowered his head more, trying to take it all into his mouth. He gagged just a little as it hit the back of his throat.  _Never thought in a million years I would be doing this. Here I am, sucking dick._

Rory moaned louder as he felt shocks of pleasure from his groin that he never felt before. Wave after wave of intense pulsing ran through his entire body. Sam had moved from massaging with his tongue to bobbing his head up and down. He started writhing about as Sam started to play with his balls while steadily sucking on his manhood.

_This is… too… much…_  Rory thought, the erotic energy starting to overtake him. "Sam! I'm going to.." Before he could finish his warning, his body trembled as he cried out in ecstasy, his thick, sticky cum shooting directly into Sam's mouth. Sam hadn't expected that, but it was just another part of the experience. He struggled to gulp it down, but there was so much of it that it was oozing from the corners of his mouth. He stayed glued to the boys orgasming dick until he went soft and stopped quivering.

Not even wiping his mouth, Sam jumped up to meet Rory's face, kissing him intensely. His kisses were filled with hunger – a hunger for his own orgasm, a hunger to experience Rory the way he had just done for him. He wanted to feel his boyfriend's mouth around him and stare into those beautiful ocean blue eyes when he looked up at him, cock in mouth, cum oozing from his lips.

Eager to please, Rory repeated what Sam had done. Putting him on his back, he licked his chest, teasing his nipples with erotic pain as he nibbled gently. He moved farther down, refusing to feel intimidated by the large meat beneath him.

Wanting to impress, he wasted no time in simply dropping his face down, taking it in a big gulp. He expected to have a slight gag reflex, but to his advantage, he didn't seem to have one. He took Sam's big cock all the way into his mouth, feeling it hit the back of his throat.

Sam was moaning louder than Rory had, his body starting to quiver already. He could never explain the feeling of the younger man's mouth on him – so much different than a girl's. Losing control of himself, he reached down with one hand and held Rory's head in place while he thrusted his hips upward.

The loss of control in Sam was making Rory all the more excited.  _He's liking this a lot! I must be doing something right!_  he thought. Sam finally reached the point of no return, blasting his seed into Rory's throat. The younger boy gagged at that, pulling back, but Sam held his head down, forcing him to swallow as much as he could. When Sam stopped erupting and softened, he allowed the teen to come off of his dick.

Rory then kissed Sam, both of them able to taste the bitter cum. "That was intense," Rory finally commented as he collapsed on top of Sam.

"I didn't hurt you did I? I just couldn't help myself," Sam asked, genuinely concerned. Rory shook his head and nuzzled it into Sam's chest.

"No. I was surprised, but I liked it," he admitted. "I liked making you feel good. It made me feel good, too."

"Did I make you feel good?" Sam asked.

"Oh yes!" Rory exclaimed. "Very much! I don't think anyone would believe we were new at this."

Sam laughed. "Perhaps. Whatever the case, I want to do it with you again. And again."

"Me, too," Rory replied. They were silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. "I really like you, Sam. I feel so happy when you're around. You make me feel… safe… and special." He blushed a deep shade of red as he revealed his private thoughts.

"I really like you, too," Sam stated. "I really like you a lot."

Sated and tired out, they quickly showered and cleaned up, got dressed, and laid on the bed again, cuddling. Sam set his alarm clock so they could get in a short nap before his parents arrived home. They fell asleep, Rory's head on Sam's chest. They only had an hour, but it was a perfect end to the afternoon; falling asleep together and not having to rush off to avoid being caught.

 


	4. Episode 4: Extraordinary Merry Christmas & A Happy New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: I am pleased you guys are enjoying the story! I am having a lot of fun writing it, and there is plenty more to come. Keep the feedback coming - it helps me choose what direction to take.  
> _

**Recap:** Sam has his doubts about his body, but Blaine assures him he has nothing to worry about, and Rory definitely proves that when they finally take things from hot and heavy making out to something that Rory's mammy would never approve of. New Directions are starting to speculate and make assumptions and Kurt found out the truth, but so did Mike, so it's only a matter of time before the secrets get out, and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 4: Extraordinary Merry Christmas & A Happy New Year**

The choir room was abuzz with excited chattering as everyone was discussing Christmas. Most of them were spending the holidays at home, with family, while others were going on vacations elsewhere. Rachel came in followed by Finn, with a large box. Garland was spilling out of the top.

"Attention everyone! Your decorating committee has arrived!" Rachel announced, referring to herself. Mr. Schuester came in a moment later dragging behind him a large tree. With help from Puck and Sam, they put it upright and planted it in the stand.

Artie rolled in just as Rachel was sticking the star on top - that was her 'right' since it was  _she_  that was the star of glee club in her own mind. He had on his lap another large box that was blocking his view.

"Artie watch out! The-" but Tina's warning came too late. "-piano!" He crashed into the large black instrument, eliciting a cry of irritation and pain as the box was crammed into his face.

"I'm okay!" he muttered, backing away. Finn took the box from him as the boy adjusted his glasses. Finn pulled the box open to reveal a collection of ornaments and lights. He unpacked it on top of the piano, using it as a table. The others quickly gathered around, Tina and Mike taking charge of the long string of lights. They danced around the tree, wrapping them around the large artificial pine.

As the group took to hanging the ornaments and pinning the garland and other decorations on the walls, they started to sing  _All I Want for Christmas is You_ , the cheerful song flowing out into the hallway. After cleverly holding the mistletoe over his crotch and announcing that any of the girls were free to "have a kiss under the mistletoe" he hung it up properly under the doorframe, disappointed he had no takers.

"You're supposed to kiss whoever is standing next to you when you're under mistletoe," Mercedes explained when Rory gave a confused look at the small sprig. He gazed up at it, wishing that he could stand under it with Sam. Instead they had to watch as Rachel and Finn exchanged an innocent kiss in the doorway, followed by Blaine and Kurt, and Tina and Mike, and lastly Santana and Brittany.

"Enough with the softcore porn, Mr. Schue, what are we doing for Christmas this year?" Puck asked, annoyed at the displays of affection.

Before the teacher could answer, Finn interrupted. "I think Rory had something he wanted to say, didn't you?"

"Thanks, Finn Hudson," Rory said. Earlier in the day he had asked him about performing a song when they were finished decorating and he agreed to make sure he got the opportunity. "My mam was going to come out here for Christmas, but plane tickets are expensive, so this is my first year celebrating without my family. I'd like to dedicate this song to them.

Everyone listened intently as the young crooner sang  _Blue Christmas_ , expressing his sadness at being away from his family, and feeling even a little bit homesick in general. When he was finished, Sam, sitting in the back, gave him two thumbs up, proud of his young friend's talent.

As soon as he was finished, Santana spoke up. "That was depressing! I feel like jumping off of a bridge onto a polar ice cap," she declared. Rachel quickly interjected with her own thoughts before Santana could say anymore.

"I think what she meant was that while it was an excellent performance, perhaps a more cheerful selection would have been more appreciated by the general audience," she explained, trying to sound supportive.

"It would be nice if we could have some actual cheer this year. Last year sucked. Coach Sylvester chopped down our tree, stole all the gifts for the homeless, and Kurt was at Dalton."

"Don't forget my magic legs broke the day after I got them," Artie reminded her. Tina frowned, wishing that at least his magic legs could have lasted longer.

Mr. Schuester had been grinning from ear to ear from the moment he had entered the choir room with the tree. He was up to something. "Well Tina, Rachel, everyone. I have great news. This year is definitely not going to suck."

"Why not, Mr. Schue?" Mercedes asked hopefully.

"Because, Mercedes, we are going to put on a Christmas special for the local public access network!"

Everyone began to gasp and murmur, the news of a performance on television - even public access - was promising. Mr. Schue went on to explain the details. Artie would be the director while the others would put on the show, mixing dancing and singing in with a comedic plot. Everyone would get to participate and be featured in the special. What an exciting Christmas present to New Directions!

-ooo-

"Oh bugger!' Rory swore as his books fell out of his locker in a cascade. Sam saved one of them from clunking him on the head as it slowly slid out while Rory was crouched on the floor, picking them up.

"Remind me to show you how to stack those so that doesn't keep happening," Sam remarked. "I'm sorry I didn't realize how hard it has to be for you, not being with your family during the holidays."

Rory gave him a half smile and sighed. "It's a lot harder than I thought. I was looking forward to seeing my mam."

Sam gave him a guy-hug, wanting to give him a full embrace, holding him, kissing him, showing him that it would be okay, but he had to settle for minmal affection at the moment. "So what are you going to do? Spend it with Brittany's family?"

"I don't know. They're supposed to be going to see a gay Santa in California and that really sounds just a little creepy to me," Rory answered.

"Gay Santa?"

"Yeah. A Santa fey," Rory answered, bewildered.

"Oh you mean Santa Fe, the city. Are they taking you with them?"

Rory stared at his feet and shook his head. "I don't think so. I think I am just supposed to stay at the house until the come back."

Sam frowned. "That's a whole lot of bullshit," he declared. "They just expect you to sit around on the couch and watch TV, munching on Doritos and canned spaghetti? I don't think so."

Rory shrugged. "You should spend the holiday with my family. You'll love it. We have a big Christmas dinner with my family; you can meet everyone! The kids will be excited to have you there, and mom will be ecstatic to have you join us." Sam suggested.

"I.. I can't do that. That's your family time. They don't need a stranger there. I can stay at the house and watch TV, maybe play video games or something," Rory argued sullenly.

Sam pursed his lips in disapproval. "Let's try again. You  _will_  spend the holiday with my family. You'll love it, and they'll love having you. End of discussion. You will  _not_  be spending Christmas alone eating raisens and beans." There was silence for a full half minute. "This is the part where you say 'sure thing, I'll be there at five on Christmas Eve,'" Sam directed.

"Thank you so much, Sam. That means a lot," Rory replied, feeling better. He smiled at him, his eyes shining brilliant cerulean.

"Now that we settled that, let's go. I want to go to the gym before we go home."  _I haven't had a good workout in weeks. I'm getting flabby and he'll get grossed out if he sees me that way._

The boys finished packing their books to take home and then headed to the gym. Rory wasn't the working out kind of guy, so while Sam used the equipment in the locker room, Rory went to the gym to play basketball. He wasn't very good and he wanted to get better so that he wouldn't be made fun of in class anymore.

-ooo-

The next day, Artie had gathered everyone in the auditorium. Rachel sang  _River_ , but he deemed it too depressing, insisting that any and all hints to anything sad be omitted from the program, going so far as to rewrite  _Frosty the Snowman_  to have an ending where the titular character doesn't melt away.

"Artie, that's messed up," Sam commented. " _Frosty the Snowman_  is a classic, and even if it has a sad ending, so what? You can't rewrite  _Frosty!_ "

Artie cleared his throat. "Christmas is about cheer. There is no sadness."

"That's crap," Sam argued. By then everyone had started to stare at him as he stood up. "What makes Christmas special is partially the sad things. The people we lost, the things we don't have. They are what make us thankful for what we  _do_  have, that remind us to appreciate the gifts we are lucky enough to get. I think you've lost sight of what's important and just want to make something everyone can laugh at."

"Whatever you say, Sam, but we're doing this with cheer. I'm changing the ending to  _Frosty_ , and Rory is going to read it as Itchy the Christmas Elf during the last act when all of the characters are gathered by the fireplace. That's just how it is," Artie declared calmly.

Sam scoffed and moved through the rows, making his way to the aisle. "Fine, but I don't want to be part of something that doesn't remember what's important about the holiday. I'm going to the Salvation Army and see what I can do to volunteer." He turned to look back at Rory. "Come on, I'll give you a ride."

Rory had the look of a deer caught in headlights.  _I really want to do the special. Why can't he just go along with it? It's going to be fun. But I can't just desert him, either. Damn, what should I do?_  "Sam I... I don't want to be left out," he said softly, his eyes lowering. "It'll be fun, we can do both, can't we?"

Sam sighed and turned around, huffing out of the auditorium. Rory looked like he wanted to cry.  _I'm sorry, Sam. I just want to do something fun, too._

-ooo-

Sam stomped into the hall, angry.  _Artie can be impossible! I mean, what the hell? He should know, he's in that damn wheelchair, he knows shit happens and Christmas is about being thankful for what we have. If it wasn't for the bad stuff we wouldn't appreciate what we got._

He went go his car, started it, and drove downtown to the Salvation Army. Inside he inquired about what he could do, and they told him he could stand outside in the cold and ring a bell, collecting change, or he could hang out at the homesless shelter and serve food. He decided to do both. The lady behind the desk took him to the back, handed him a bell, gave him a crash course in how not to piss people off, and then told him where to set up shop.

About an hour after he had been ringing, he had only collected a couple of dollars worth of change, despite smiling at every person that passed, wishing them a Merry Christmas, and even attempting small talk. People just weren't interested in helping.

Sam's phone started ringing. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Rory Flanagan.

"Hello?" Sam answered.

"Sam? Are you okay?" came the quiet voice over the phone.

"Yeah. I'm good," he said. "Merry Christmas!" he said to a passerby as they dropped two coins in the bucket.

"Where are you?" Rory asked, confused.

"In front of a department store downtown, ringing a bell. Trying to collect some money for the poor."

"Oh," Rory replied, his voice low. "Are you... are you mad at me? For staying?"

"No!" Sam exclaimed. "Of course not. I think it's great you get to be a part of something fun."

"Then how come you don't want to be in it, too?"

"Because..." Sam hesitated. "Christmas isn't just about cheer and happiness. It's about sadness, too. If all we think about is happy stuff, even changing a kids story to do it, it kind of misses the point. We shouldn't just be looking out for ourselves, you know?"

Rory was silent. "I told you about everything that happened with my family this year. I know what it's like to be poor. Homeless. I think helping out other people will make me feel better. I just hate to think everyone is forgetting about the less fortunate," Sam explained.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Rory said.

"Don't be sorry. Do what you want to do, I won't be upset. I just need to do this, okay?"

"Okay. I guess I better let you go so you can ring your bell. See you tomorrow?" Rory said, his voice not quite as low as before.

"Sure thing. I can't wait." Sam said goodbye and hung up his phone, slipping it back in his pocket.  _I wish he would at least come out here with me for a little while._

-ooo-

It was the evening the special was to be recorded and everyone except for Sam and Quinn were gathered in the dressing room, getting ready. Blaine and Kurt were wearing tuxedos, Mercedes and Rachel dolled up in ball gowns. Finn and Puck were dressed, oddly enough, as Luke Sywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi from  _Star Wars_. Brittany, Santana, and Tina were dressed in sexy Santa outfits with skirts and sleeveless tops, while Mike was disguised as Santa himself.

"Alright everyone! Places please!" Artie shouted over the din. It was time to start.

The event went wonderfully. Nobody forgot their lines, the songs were perfect, and the music was great. The very last part was the last act - the reading of  _Frosty the Snowman_  by Itchy the elf.

New Directions (minus Quinn, Sam, and Artie) were huddled around the fire, waiting eagerly as Rory walked in wearing a goofy green outfit. Considering he was supposed to be an elf, he was rather tall. He had a book in his hand, but it was obviously not a children's book, but a Bible.

"I will now read a different selection tonight, something that reminds us what Christmas is truly all about," Rory stated. Taking a cue from Linus is  _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ , he called for lights out, then began to read several verses.

When they were finished with the scene, and the play was over, they were all again gathered in the dressing room, changing. Artie rolled up to Rory, his face a mask of irritation.

"What were you doing?" the boy demanded. "You were supposed to read  _Frosty the Snowman_ , not the Bible. Now everyone is going to be depressed when they watch it!"

"Artie, go easy on him. It was a really nice reading," Rachel said, interjecting her two cents. The others began to chime in agreements, making Artie feel outnumbered and wronged.

Rory addressed the rest of the group, "I wanted to tell you guys, Sam and Quinn are at the homeless shelter tonight with Coach Sylvester. They're passing out food to the people there. Don't you think it would be nice if we did something of our own to spread a little cheer for them?"

-ooo-

"So why didn't you want to join in the special?" Sam asked Quinn as the pair of them scooped mashed potatoes and gravy onto the plates of homeless people. Quinn smiled.

"I just wasn't in the mindset for all that. And... I know what it's like too, to lose everything you have. I wanted to give back a little I guess," she replied.

"Portion control, people! We have to have enough for everyone!" Sue interrupted.

"Coach Sylvester! We think you'll have more than enough for everyone tonight!" came a familiar voice. All three of them - Sue, Sam, and Quinn - looked up from their tasks to see Artie being wheeled in carrying a large turkey, the other club members following with other containers of food, a pair of large boxes, and a small decorated tree.

"What are you guys doing here?" Sam asked, surprised to see them.

"Rory helped put us back on track, remind us what Christmas really is all about," Rachel answered.

Puck set the small tree on a table then picked up the turkey, setting it on the counter where the food was being served. "Small fry knocked some sense into Wheels, in other words."

Sam's face turned into a glow of smiles, Rory walking in last, still wearing his elf costume and carting behind him a sack. "What's all that?" he asked.

"Decorations in the boxes," Rory answered, pointing to the boxes that the others were unpacking, "and care kits in the sack."

"We put together small bags with some items people can use on the streets. Toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, bandaids, small blankets," Tina explained. "We pooled some money together and raided the Wal-mart."

"This is amazing!" Quinn exclaimed. She immediately ran around to start hugging her club mates who busied themselves putting up colorful decorations.

Some of the children that were at the shelter decided to help out, putting decorations on the small tree, putting streamers and garland on the countertops, putting up posters of Santa and his reindeer.

"I think it's time we sang a song for them, don't you think?" Rachel asked. Sue rolled her eyes.

"If you sing  _Jingle Bells_ , I'll personally slaughter each and every one of you. That's the only song old John Doe over here knows how to play and my ears are bleeding," she scowled.

She was lucky – the talented group didn't sing  _Jingle Bells_ , but chose another song –  _Don't They Know it's Christmas._  The sound filled the room, homeless people stopping their meal to watch them as they sang and danced throughout the room. They played with the children, dancing with them.

New Directions stayed with the shelter for another hour, bringing holiday cheer to everyone in there, even if it was only for a little while, and within the next few hours they had to return to being just average people down on their luck. At least for a little while, they had a reason to smile.

-ooo-

After they finished up at the shelter, it was only nine o'clock, and there was still more to do. Rory and Sam stood on the sidewalk in the strip downtown, ringing their bells and wishing bypassers a wonderful holiday.

"These bells, they remind me of home. My dad made my brother start wearing one because he kept getting lost," Rory laughed. "He used to say 'Seamus, if we don't hear your bell, you've gone too far,' and then before you knew it, the sound got quieter and mam and dad would go chasing after him."

"Sounds like your family is really great," Sam said, not wanting to steer the conversation into a depressing direction.

"They are. The whole Flanagan clan; we're a tight bunch, and we like to have fun and get crazy," the Irish boy said. "I think you'd like them."

"I bet I would. Maybe I'll get to meet them someday," Sam offered, knowing he was treading on dangerous territory.

Rory sighed. "Yeah, maybe." Their conversation was interrupted when Sam took a snowball to the crotch.

"Hey!" he shouted, then realized it was Rachel and Finn.

"How's the collection going?" Rachel asked, peeking into the nearly empty bucket.

Sam shrugged. "Not so great. People are quick to tell you 'Merry Christmas,' but they're just as quick to scamper away."

Rachel took some money out of her pocket. "Well, we have a little donation we'd like to make to the cause." Sam looked and could see at least two one hundred dollar bills, but it appeared that they might have had a little more.

"We returned the earrings I got for her, and the iPod she got for me, and decided that instead of spending more money on ourselves, we could do a little something for people less fortunate than us," Finn explained as the pair put the cash in the bucket together.

"Wow, I… I'm speechless," Rory said, staring at the now not so empty bucket.

"It's thanks to you, well, both of you," Rachel told them. "Rory, your reading reminded us what Christmas is all about. "

Finn smiled and added his own two cents. "Yeah, it's not just about what we want or have, but about making sure other people get taken care of too, even if we can't solve everything, we can help out."

"I really am amazed. I mean, this is too much," Sam said.

"No, it's not enough, really, but it's what we have for now," Rachel argued happily. "Now give us some of those extra bells and let's get back to ringing."

-ooo-

"Is there anything I can help you with, Mrs. Evans?" Rory asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Oh no! You and Sam go hang out for a while before everyone gets here. Once they arrive it will get a little crazy around here!" the cheerful mother replied. "Go on, off with you!"

Rory smiled and left, joining Sam in the living room with his siblings. Stacy and Stevie were sitting in front of the TV set, watching SpongeBob. Sam was on the couch, looking a little bored.

"Save me from the insanity!" Sam pleaded jokingly. "I can't handle another episode of SpongeBob. They're on a marathon!" He held out his hands and Rory pulled him up off the seat.

"Wanna go play video games in your room?" the younger boy asked, giving him a sly grin.

"Yeah. I wanna beat your ass in a race or two. Show you how a country boy rides," Sam challenged. The pair trotted off to Sam's room, making threats at each other.

_This is so great, spending the holiday with Sam and his family. They're so nice. God I miss home so bad, though. It's like life there is going on without me. I wish I had some more money so I could buy Sam something really nice. I guess what I got is gonna have to do._

"Come on, grab the controller already!" Sam urged, firing up  _Need for Speed._  He gave Rory a quick kiss for good luck, and then they prepared to race. About forty five minutes later, Mr. Evans was calling for them.

-ooo-

Dinner was amazing. Sam's aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins all came over. So many people for Rory to meet was a little overwhelming at first, but everyone was so nice and friendly that he quickly felt at ease.

Sam introduced him to everyone as his best friend from glee club, explaining that he was away from home and was invited to join them. The country family was eager to learn about the newcomer – listening intently as he answered their inquiries about his homeland.

"Can you put your brother and sister to bed for me?" Mrs. Evans asked after everyone had left. It was after ten and there was a lot of cleaning up to do. After the kids were in bed, both boys started to help with the cleaning process. It was well after eleven before the place was cleaned up.

"Okay boys, time for you to go to bed, too, or else Santa Claus won't come!" Mrs. Evans joked. In reality, she and her husband simply wanted to put out the presents before they retired for the night. They both hugged Sam's parents, Rory thanking them profusely for their kindness.

Once they got back in the bedroom, they debated racing again, but both agreed they were far too tired after the eventful evening. Taking off all but their underwear, they crawled into Sam's bed.

"Sam, this really does mean so much to me. Nobody has been this kind to me since I got here," Rory stated, yawning between sentences.

Sam kissed him gently on the mouth and bid him goodnight. Within seconds both of them had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

-ooo-

Sam and Rory woke up the next morning when Stacy and Stevie had jumped up on Sam's bed and started bouncing around.

"Wake up Sammy! Wake up Mr. Rory!" Stacy squealed with excitement.

"Yeah, get up! Santa came!" Stevie added, yanking on Sam's arm. He sat up, wiping his eyes.

"Come on, guys, give us a break. It's early!" Sam complained.

"It's already seven! That's seven, right Stacy?" Stevie asked her. She thought a moment before agreeing that he was right. Just barely older than her brother, she could already read the digital clock.

Sam grumbled a little, never a morning person. "Alright, alright, I'm coming."

Rory showed slightly more enthusiasm. He hopped out of bed, grabbed his t-shirt, and trotted merrily down the hall to the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Evans were already there, sitting on the couch drinking coffee.

"Coffee, Rory? Hot chocolate?" Mrs. Evans asked. Not a coffee drinker, he took her up on the offer of hot chocolate with red and green marshmallows on top of some whipped cream.

"Wow, this is really good Mrs. Evans, thank you!" he exclaimed, delighted by the cheerful looking drink. Sam shuffled in a minute later, having thrown on a tank top and socks. His mother handed him a cup of coffee.

The two teenagers sat on the floor, watching as the two children danced before the tree, waiting for permission to dig in.

"Okay, pass out the presents but don't open them yet," Mr. Evans instructed the kids. That was all they needed – Stacy and Stevie began picking up packages one by one, making little piles for themselves.

"Some for mommy, some for daddy," Stacy said, placing boxes in front of their parents. "Some for Sammy… and some for Mr. Rory!"

_Wait, some for me? But I only brought something for Sam, why am I getting anything?_ Rory wondered. He blushed, embarrassed. "All this for me?" Stacy had set five packages in front of him – the same number that Sam had.

"Of course, silly. We can't leave you out!" Mrs. Evans exclaimed.

"Can we open them now?" Stevie whined. "Pleeeeeease?"

"Well… I suppose so! Dig in!" Mr. Evans declared. Two loud cheers signaled the two happy children to start tearing paper away from boxes, squealing with delight at the discovery of new toys.

Sam and Rory on the other hand were slightly more patient. Rory picked up the first package – it said it was from Stacy. Inside was a new pair of gloves and sunglasses. The next package, from Stevie, contained a matching hat and scarf, colored with three stripes – orange, white, and green, the colors of the Irish flag.

Rory made the kids pause long enough to thank them and give them hugs, then turned them loose to continue tearing up paper. 'Santa' had given him a pair of black jeans and a rust colored button down shirt. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had given him something he didn't expect – a new jacket. It probably cost around fifty dollars, which was quite a lot for someone not family.

"Thank you so much, both of you!" Rory cried, hugging both of the Evans parents. "I didn't expect this, it's so much!"

"Don't worry about it, dear. Any friend of Sam's is a friend of ours, and since Sam declared himself your Christmas sponsor, it's our duty as good Americans to show you hospitality," Sam's mother explained.

"Wow mom, you sound like a patriotism commercial!" Sam laughed. He had already made it down to his last gift – one from Rory, who patiently watched him, eager to see his reaction.

Sam carefully tore the paper off, and then once he saw the edge of the box, he tore it open like a little kid. "Oh my God! You didn't!" he exclaimed, examining the item. It was a collector's package of all six  _Star Wars_  movies plus bonus discs.

"I know you had the DVDs for the original trilogy, but I thought you might want the whole set," Rory commented.

Sam practically tackled him as he hugged him, thanking him over and over. Rory felt a little guilty – he had found it on sale online and with Finn's assistance, ordered it. He had only spent about fifty dollars, and already Sam's family had spent about three times that.

"I take it you like it," Rory laughed.

"Yes! Thank you thank you thank you!" Sam repeated. "Now open yours!"

Rory picked up the last box which was about the size of a stack of CDs. The wrapping was sketchy – obviously Sam had wrapped it himself. The older teen watched intently. "Go on! Hurry up!"

"Okay, okay," Rory laughed. He finished tearing it open and pulled the top off. Inside was something he really hadn't expected. His mouth was agape as he pulled out the object – a watch with a leather band and silver face.

"Sam… this is way too much…" he said quietly. "Way too much."

Sam hugged him. "Nah, you're my best friend! I had to get you something decent!"

Still in shock – it had to have cost at least another fifty, probably more – Sam took it from him and wrapped it around his wrist, closed it up, and admired it.

"Looks great on you!" Sam said, smiling. His parents were both also smiling, watching their son and his friend.

"I can't thank you enough," Rory said to him and then looked around to everyone else. "Thank you all, so much. Nobody has been this nice to me, ever." His eyes were starting to water.  _I can't wait to tell mam and dad about this. This is unreal._

"Quit getting emotional," Sam teased, giving him a playful hit to the shoulder. Ten minutes later, the children had finished rampaging through their own gifts, now sitting amidst a mountain of toys and paper.

"Come on, let's go have a  _Star Wars_  marathon," Sam suggested, grinning like a little boy.

"Hey hey hey, hold up you two," Mr. Evans interrupted. "Get showered and changed, breakfast in about an hour. Oh yeah, after lunchtime I want you to take the kids to the park so they can play with a couple of their new toys."

"Sure thing, dad," Sam said. Rory followed him to his room and shut the door.

Sam took his hand and looked at his wrist again, admiring the gift. "That really does look great on you."

Rory smiled, his eyes shining bright. "You shouldn't have done that, Sam. That's way too much, but I love it. It's amazing."

Sam grinned. "It's not too much for you. We were poor a few months ago, trust me, I learned how to shop wisely. You know if you save a dollar or two a day, and any extra change you come across, it adds up really fast?" Rory wrapped his arms around him again, then kissed him.

"Sam, I really like you. I like you so much. You are really good to me. I feel really happy."

"I like you a lot, too. I wish… I wish I was able to…" Sam took a deep breath. "I wish I was able to tell everyone about you. I wish I could tell them how proud I am to have you as my boyfriend and walk down the hall holding your hand."

"Sam… maybe someday. When the time is right. I won't push it, we both have a lot to sort out there," Rory replied. He kissed him again, and then it was time to get ready for the day.

-ooo-

The rest of the week went by rather quickly. Sam and Rory spent most of their free time hanging out together, playing video games, watching movies, even playing with the kids. Of course there was that horrible thing called winter break homework that some of their teachers thought would be appropriate to give.

"I really don't want to read this book," Sam complained, tossing  _The Great Gastby_  on his bed.

"It's not that long," Rory noted. "It should only take a couple days if you just put your mind to it and just sit down and do it."

Sam sighed. "It's not just that, Rory. It takes me a long time to read a book."

"Just sit down and focus a couple hours a day, you can do it," Rory insisted.

"No, I can't. You don't understand," Sam replied, agitated. "It's hard for me to read, okay? I'm dyslexic."

Rory lowered his eyes, a little embarrassed at having been so insistent. "Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Sam shrugged. "It's okay. But that's why it takes me so long to read a book. I have to focus on the words more than other people do."

Rory sat on the bed, picked up the book, and started to skim through it. It wasn't a particularly long book.  _I wonder if I could do something to help. I don't want to offend him though._

"What if… how about we read it together?" Rory suggested.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I'll get a copy of the book and we can read it at the same time. I'll help you along and we can knock it out in no time," the younger teen explained. Sam looked at him skeptically. "You're not stupid, Sammy, you just need motivation and encouragement."

Sam shrugged, embarrassed. "I guess so. It just sucks that we have to read this crap, and you don't even have to for another year or so."

Rory smiled at him, his eyes once again bright. "I don't mind. Take me to the bookstore?"

Sam agreed to take him, and within an hour they were sitting in his room, Rory laying on his stomach on the bed with the book open in front of him while Sam sat in his chair, holding the book open on his desk.

"This is already making my eyes hurt," Sam complained. "It's giving me a headache."

"Read it out loud. I want to hear what it is you're seeing," Rory instructed. Sam shrugged and started to read to him, every few words a jumble of confusion. The brunette scratched his head, suddenly realizing how bad it was for Sam to try and read something as extensive as a novel.

"See what I mean? It's crap. I just need to get Cliff Notes for the assignment."

Rory didn't give a response to that, but instead began to read directly from where Sam left off.

"What are you doing?"

"Reading this crap to my boyfriend because he has dyslexia. What are you doing?" Rory replied with a grin.

"You're really going to read that whole book to me?" Sam asked, laughing.

Rory nodded and smiled. "Yes. Now grab some popcorn, grab me a drink, and get comfortable.

Two hours later, they were already a good way through the novel.  _I could listen to him all day long. That voice, that accent, it's so damn sexy. If he keeps reading, I'm going to go nuts._

"Okay, break time," Rory announced. He started to get up, but Sam stopped him. He was on his knees, right in front of him, smiling.

"I have a good idea for a break," Sam said slyly. He pressed his lips against his boyfriend's, sliding his tongue into his mouth. As they continued to make out, the blonde stood up, pushing Rory onto his back. He climbed up on top of him, lifted his shirt up and started to kiss Rory's bare chest.

"Just relax. You've earned this," Sam said seductively. He moved his hands down the teenager's sides, reaching his hips. Continuing to alternate from kissing his lips to his chest, with his hands he unbuttoned Rory's pants and tugged them down, exposing his throbbing erection.

Sam looked up and smiled at him, kissed him on the lips one more time, and then traced his tongue down from his neck to his navel and past, following the thin trail of hair right down to his bushy crotch.

Rory gasped as Sam took his manhood into his mouth, feeling those thick lips encasing him.  _Oh shit, that feels so good._  He looked down to see Sam's head bobbing up and down, one hand jerking him off at the same time, his other hand disappearing out of sight.

Sam paused and unwrapped his lips. "Are you liking this?"

"Yes! Oh god yes, please don't stop!" Rory replied, breathing deeply. Sam didn't speak but instead went back down on him, eliciting a loud gasp. Sam moaned as he continued to go down on him, tasting the salty liquid dripping from the hard dick in his mouth.

Sam's free hand was down his own pants, rubbing himself. He could feel his boxers getting wet as his cock was oozing precum. He continued to moan as he sucked and licked and bobbed up and down.

"Sam, I'm gonna…" the teen kept breathing and gasping. Rory didn't have time to finish his sentence as his body trembled. He moaned loudly, shooting his seed directly into Sam's eager mouth.

Sam didn't stop sucking – he continued to keep his lips wrapped around him, drawing out every single drop he could from the erupting dick. He swallowed greedily, enjoying the bitter taste in his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Rory announced, tired, as his body stopped quivering.

"Wow, that's new. You never cuss," Sam giggled. "That good?"

Rory chuckled, regaining his breath. "Yeah. Very good." Sam smiled, then flopped down next to him, taking his hand out of his pants. Rory took Sam's sticky hand and brought it to his lips, sliding each finger in and out of his mouth, licking off the cream that Sam had coaxed out of himself.

"Can we take a nap?" Rory asked quietly. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, let's take a nap babe," the blonde replied. He kissed him again, taking him into his arms and snuggling with him until they fell asleep.

-ooo-

New Year's Eve came up in almost no time, but by the time the ball dropped, Sam had finished his book and was prepared for class on Tuesday.

The boys watched the famous ball dropping in New York City from the comfort of Sam's room, taking a break from watching  _Avatar_  for the third time.

"I'm totally going to teach you to speak Na'vi. I bet it will sound awesome with your accent!" Sam said, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"I'm doing good to handle Irish and English, I don't think I can handle a fantasy language too," Rory chuckled. "Stop hogging the popcorn, dork." He playfully yanked the bowl from Sam's hands, turning away from him and keeping it for himself.

Dick Clark came on the set again, his slow and hard to understand voice announcing the last few seconds until midnight. When it hit midnight exactly, and the massive electric ball hit the base, the two boys embraced in a passionate popcorn flavored kiss.

"I'm so glad we got to spend New Year's together," Sam told him when they finally unlocked lips.

"Me too. You've made my winter break the best break I could ask for."

Sam sighed. "You know it's going to suck going back to school after two weeks of break."

"No kidding. At least you got your book read and you can do your assignment."

"Yeah, thanks to you," Sam replied, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

Rory turned the TV back to the XBOX and pushed a button. "Let's finish the movie so we can go to bed, I'm tired." The movie started again but within minutes, Rory had fallen asleep. Smiling to himself, Sam put the popcorn bowl on the nightstand, turned out the light, and slid under the covers, making sure the other teen was covered and warm. He gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and then drifted off into his own dream world.

 


	5. Episode 5: Exposed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: I am pleased you guys are enjoying the story! I am having a lot of fun writing it, and there is plenty more to come. Keep the feedback coming - it helps me choose what direction to take._

**Recap:**  It's Christmas time at McKinley and Artie directed a show, but Sam didn't like how he was going about it so he spent his time at the Salvation Army with Quinn. Rory reminded everyone what Christmas is all about so they went to help out, and then school was over for the winter. Rory had no place to go, so he stayed with Sam through New Year's but now it's time to go back to school and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 5: Exposed**

First thing in the morning on the day they returned to school, Sam was getting a book out of his locker when he felt a sharp tapping on his back. He turned around to find Rachel standing there, hands on her hips, the look of determination on her face.

_Oh crap, what does she want now? It's too soon to be putting up with her crazy mess._  He thought.

"He's too young for you, Sam!" Rachel blurted out in the exact tone a mother would use when scolding her child. Sam felt a chill run down his spine and his skin begin to sweat as if he were too hot and too cold at the same time.

"Wh-what are you talking about, Rachel?" he asked, buying himself time to think. She poked him sharply in the chest before folding her arms in front of her.

"You know what I'm talking about! You're eighteen and he's fifteen. In high school that's like a ten year difference!"

Sam swallowed, his body feeling weak all of a sudden. "What are you talking about? You're acting crazier than normal," he stuttered. There was no way she was going to let this go.

She pursed her lips together, sighed, and stated her purpose. "You know exactly what I am talking about, Samuel Evans. Rory Flanagan."

His heart stopped and then sank. He stepped backwards into his locker, the sharp stab of the metal latch lost in his mental panic.

"Yep, that's right. Don't act like it's a shock that I know."

"Who did you hear this from? Blaine? Kurt? Hardly reliable sources!" Sam fired back. He was suddenly angry, feeling betrayed and hurt that Blaine had broken his trust and told someone – most likely Kurt.

"Who do you think? Who knows everything in this school? Well, other than Jacob Ben Israel." Sam started to utter the name that came to mind, but she did it for him. "That's right, Kurt. Not that he needed to tell, it was pretty obvious."

Sam huffed at her. "So what do you want, Rachel? Did you have anything useful to say, or did you just come here to yell at me?"

"I told you. He's too young for you," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I think you need to mind your own damn business," he hissed, slamming his locker shut and hurrying off down the hall.

_How the hell did Kurt find out? Blaine had to have told him! I thought he was my friend. Hell, I thought Kurt was my friend. I thought they would understand. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!_

If Rachel's assault wasn't enough, it surely didn't get any better. He could hear classmates whispering, looking back at him and giggling. The jocks were snickering and making lewd motions with their hands.

As soon as class was over, he walked purposefully to Rory's locker where he saw exactly what he had feared when he arrived.

Azimio Adams and another one of the football jocks had Rory slammed up against the locker, shouting at him. Azimio had him by the collar, Rory's face and eyes red, panic stricken. Sam moved through the crowd like lightning.

Rory felt himself freed from the ape-like grip of the hefty senior, falling to the ground on all fours, gasping for air. Azimio had practically been choking him as the other jock poked him in the chest with each jibe they spoke. When he finally looked up, he saw Sam had yanked Azimio backward by his jacket and slammed him into the lockers on the opposite side of the hall.

"Oh you done fucked up now, Evans!" Azimio hollered. He took a running dash at the taller guy, but Sam jumped forward, grabbing hold of his neck and shoving him back again. "I'm going to beat your queer ass!" the behemoth barked.

Sam wasn't threatened in the least – his adrenaline pumping. The other boy was heftier, but he was slow. The brute swung his fist right into Sam's abdomen, causing him to double over as the wind was knocked out of him. Azimio took advantage and shoved the blonde back against the wall.

Trying to regain his bearings, Sam was caught off-guard as the dark-skinned fist flew through the air, connecting with his face. The pain shot through his head like a bullet, exploding around his eye and nose.

Thinking he had won, Azimio stood back, admiring his handiwork as Sam fell to one knee, breathing heavily. He hadn't realized Rory had recovered and making a beeline for him.

The younger boy had much less weight and strength, but the adrenaline and rage made up for it. He slammed the cocky jock into the wall and started hitting him in the side before the other jock that had been harassing him yanked him backwards and to the ground.

"HEY! What's going on around here!" echoed the deep yet feminine voice of Coach Shannon Beiste.

"I didn't start it, coach, it was those fairies that came up in here making trouble, I swear!" Azimio lied. The other jock backed up his claims, swearing that Sam had come up to them for no reason, harassing them. Coach Beiste, however, was not a stupid woman. She knew her boys and she knew the glee boys and there was no way the two jocks were being honest.

"You two, my office, now!" she ordered, pointing at Sam and Rory.

"Wait, Coach Beiste, this isn't what it looks like, we didn't start anything! They were picking on Rory!" Sam declared, the young teen coming to their defense as well.

"GO! Now!" her voice boomed through the hall. Azimio smirked as he watched the two boys slowly amble off to the gym. He wasn't as safe as he thought, however.

Coach Beiste turned on the two jocks with fire in her soul. "And you two! You should be ashamed of yourselves. I'm sick and tired of your antics, always bullying everyone. You did it to Hummel last year, and you've done it to countless others. I should have done this a long time ago and I regret that I haven't! I don't care how good either of you are, you're both off the team! Now get out of my sight."

Everyone in the hall was speechless. The sports teams were Coach Beiste's heart and soul, for her to dismiss two of her best players was almost unheard of. "MOVE!" she shouted, knocking everyone out of their shock into motion. Satisfied that she had made her point, she stormed off to the gym to deal with the two boys in her office.

-ooo-

Almost immediately, both Sam and Rory began to plead their innocence to the coach. She silenced them both with an order to have a seat. Beiste reached behind her, into the freezer, and removed an ice pack. She wrapped it in a small towel and tossed it to her former quarterback.

"Here. Put this on it," she said in a slightly softer tone. She then handed the younger boy a wad of tissues. "Wipe your nose, you're bleeding." Sam held the ice pack to his face, the cold pressure sending shivers down his spine. His head was pounding, his eye throbbing.

"Coach Beiste, please, can I tell you what happened?" Rory asked in the politest voice he could muster. His throat was raw from the growling primal rage when he clotheslined Azimio.

The coach shook her head. "I have a good idea what's going on, gentlemen. Take a minute to calm down. I'm going to let Principal Figgins know that I am excusing you to go home the rest of the day. After we have our discussion." The two boys looked at each other nervously. Their minds raced, fearing what was about to take place.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Rory whispered. "You shouldn't have done that."

"And let them hurt you? No way. I won't accept that," Sam argued back. He was trying to act strong, like he wasn't nervous, but Rory could read it in his voice; he was terrified. He wanted to hold his hand, hug him, hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but there was no telling how soon the coach would return.

"Alright boys, you're cleared to go home when we're done here. You're to leave school immediately and go home. You're not in trouble, but you will be if you don't get your butts moving when I tell you to," the coach announced.

She then cleared her throat. "Now gentlemen, we'll get this all out in the open. Evans, as you know, what is said in my office, stays in my office, no questions asked. Flanagan, you're to follow that law as well. You have my support and confidence as long as I have your integrity."

"Yes ma'am," Rory replied meekly. He didn't question why she had referred to it as a law rather than a rule. Coach Beiste was not a woman to be questioned.

"Tell me, how did thing start?" she asked, looking from one boy to the other.

Rory spoke up first. "I don't even know those two except from being pushed around in the hallway. They came up to me and started saying really mean things, then shoved me against my locker and held my shirt collar. I felt like I was choking," he explained.

"I see. What were they saying?"

Rory looked down at his feet. He wasn't but so familiar with American slang, but some words were universal. "They were making fun of my accent, my clothes. Being in glee club. One of them said I was a fag. I don't know why he would call me tobacco but that probably isn't what he meant. They were saying mean things about Sam, too."

Coach Beiste scratched her chin, thinking. "Well, fag is a slang term for a gay guy. People use it to try and take a dig at a guy's masculinity. Kurt Hummel knows all about it. Last year he was bullied so bad that he changed schools for a few months. Regardless of your sexuality, you shouldn't be called names of any kind."

Her tone was unusually kind. Sam had always known her as a real hard-ass, but likable, but the way she spoke to them now was almost… motherly.

"How did you get involved, Evans?"

"I was on my way to his locker and when I got there, Azimio had him by the throat and Johnson was poking him in the chest. You know Azimio, talk doesn't work with him. I had no choice, Coach. I had to help my friend," Sam declared rather confidently. She was again scratching her chin thoughtfully.

_They're going to ship me back to Ireland for this, I know it._  Rory thought.

"That's noble of you. If I recall, you took a black eye for Kurt Hummel last year, when Karofsky was bullying him. You are fiercely loyal to your friends, Evans. I like that," Beiste said, giving him a kind grin.

"Coach, are we in trouble?" Sam asked outright.

"If it were any other coach, perhaps," she replied. Sam was about to ask for clarification on that, but she continued. "When I was a kid, about your age Flanagan, there was a boy that was a little different than everyone else. He disliked sports, read books all the time, excelled in art. The jocks made his life hell. They bullied him every single day." She sighed, the memory obviously painful for her.

"Then one day, I got up enough courage to stand up for him. We became friends, and for a short time, everything was okay. He admitted to me that he was gay, but I didn't care - he was still my friend. But then my family moved away. We lost touch. A year later I received a letter in the mail, from him. I had seen on the news earlier in the week that he had killed himself. Tough ole' Shannon cried hard that day. I opened the letter and read it."

"What did it say, Coach?" both boys begged to know.

"He thanked me. He thanked me for being his friend, and for standing up for him. And then he apologized. He said that he tried, but the bullying became too much, until he couldn't take it anymore. He apologized for letting me down." The tough coach wiped a tear from her eye. She cleared her throat. "I haven't shared that with anyone since I was a girl." She sniffled and then steeled herself again.

"Gentlemen, I shared this with you because I can't stand to see someone being bullied, particularly for being gay. I didn't do enough to help Kurt last year. I failed to do my job and keep him safe, as I should do with any student being harassed. Now I have a chance to try again," she admitted. She glanced at the boys' faces; filled with confusion and sorrow.

"There have been things being said about the two of you for a while now," she said. They exchanged nervous looks, but for some reason also felt at ease. It was a strange feeling. "I have a sense that what they say may be true."

Sam gulped. He began to sweat, feeling beads dripping down his forehead. During the entire time he had been discovering his new emotions, all the time he had been spending with Rory, even after their sexual experience, he had never vocalized being gay. The coach was about to ask him to make that statement, to clarify the truth.

Rory stepped in to save him from his fears, however. "Mrs.. - uh Coach Beiste, Sam and I... we have been very close friends. We're finding out things about ourselves and trying to figure out who we are, together. I don't think it can be defined by a label such as gay, bisexual, or straight. It's just a relationship, me and Sam, and that's that."

The coach's face was glowing with happiness. "That's the most mature thing I have ever heard someone your age say, Flanagan. I encourage both of you to continue your relationship, without fear. Beginning now, the punishment for harassment of a student, for any reason, will be dealt with severely. If either of you feel like you are unsafe from another student, I expect you to come to me, and it will be dealt with. I won't tolerate the hatred anymore, especially when it's all because two students are sharing a loving relationship."

Sam was floored. The coach had shown a whole other side to herself in the past several minutes. He was proud to have her as his coach. He respected her before, but now he felt true pride and admiration.

"Enough of this sappy talk. You two get out of here. Get your things and go home. You're both excused from classes the rest of the day," she declared. The meeting was over. They both got up to leave, the coach siting at her desk beginning to make notes in a notebook of football plays.

Rory paused as Sam headed out the door. He turned to face the coach one last time. "Coach, you did the right thing, back then. Even though he killed himself, you still made a positive impact on his life, which was more than anyone else did. If it made him smile, even once, you did the right thing." He didn't wait for a response, didn't really need one. He just wanted to make sure the coach knew that she had his respect

When the door to her office closed and she was again alone, she wiped the tears from her eyes and quietly thanked them both. That meeting was the closest thing she had ever had to being like a mother to someone, and she had feared her whole life she would never get the chance to be one. She felt protective of those boys, because Rory in particular reminded her of her childhood friend.

-ooo-

The halls were empty since everyone else was in class. Sam gathered his things from his locker and then escorted Rory to his own. There was a slight dent in one of the other lockers across the hall where one of the three boys had slammed into it. He couldn't be sure because it all happened so fast, but he hoped that it was Azimio who would walk past that locker and remember his defeat.

"So what are we going to do now, Sam?" Rory asked. "I mean, won't your family ask questions if you go home early?"

"No, they won't be home just yet. Mom and dad work until five, and my brother and sister are at the after-school program until mom picks them up on her way home. They won't know a thing."

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For standing up for me," the younger teenager replied. He leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek and a hug. They walked out to the parking lot and got in Sam's car. "Am I coming with you?"

"Of course you are, dummy. If you go back to Brit's then you might get in trouble with her folks, and she'll ask questions and stuff." On the ride home, Rory kept his hand over Sam's the entire time, never wanting to let go. Not being the most athletic, and being a small guy in general, he had been terrified when Azimio and the other jock ganged up on him. He just knew he was going to get beaten up, but when Sam showed up and protected him. How would he ever be able to repay that kind of care? He looked over at his boyfriend, at his face where his eye was already bruised and darkening.

"How's it look?" Sam asked.

Rory shrugged. "Pretty bad, really. Your mam and pap are going to ask questions. What will you tell them about that? You can't really hide it."

"I'll just tell them I got hit in gym class when we were playing baseball or something. Don't worry," the blonde replied. His voice was a little distant as it began to register in his head that with the word out on the campus now that he and Rory were dating, it would only be a matter of time before his family found out. What would he do then?

Around four, when football practice would be over, Sam's cell phone rang. It was Mike.

"Hey, I heard about the fight. You guys okay? I didn't see you in class the rest of the day," Mike asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, we're fine. Hanging out at my house right now. Beiste sent us home early, said we needed time to cool down from the fight," Sam explained.

"That's cool. You know she kicked Azimio off the team?"

"Yeah, she told us. He's going to be-"

"Pissed!" Mike finished for him. "He is pissed. He showed up at practice and Coach threw him out, reassuring him that he was not to return if he wanted to avoid expulsion. He went off, but not without some choice words. You guys better lay low. I wouldn't let Rory out of your sight if I were you."

"Great, that's all we needed. Azimio on the prowl. At least Karofsky isn't around to up the ante." Sam said as Rory whispered to him, wanting to know who it was. He mouthed back, "Mike Chang."

Mike finally broached the subject Sam was waiting for to come up. "So... I heard the rumor going around. About you and Rory."

Sam took a deep breath. "Yeah, it's true. I'm sorry, man, I just..."

"Hey, it's not a big deal. It's your business. But I want you to know, I didn't say anything to anyone. I swear it," Mike told him. "I saw you two the other day, in the hall. You looked pretty friendly if you know what I mean. I didn't say anything to anyone, though. Not even Tina."

"Thanks, Mike. I- we appreciate that. I heard it was Kurt who let the cat out of the bag anyway."

"Why the hell did you tell Kurt? You know he can't keep a secret!" Mike questioned. Sam wasn't stupid, so why would he do such a thing?

"I didn't. Blaine must have. He's the only one who knew. I thought he was the more responsible one, the reliable one, so I went to him for advice, because I didn't know what I was feeling. I swore him to secrecy but I guess he still told Kurt anyway," Sam admitted. He felt foolish for trusting Blaine not to tell Kurt, but at the same time it was some of the things Blaine had said to him that gave him the courage to ask Rory out and continue on with a relationship.

"So what are you going to do now? The whole school will know by week's end, and what if your folks find out?" Mike asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"I don't know. I really don't know," Sam sighed. "I hadn't really expected this I suppose."

"Well, I got your back, man. Both of you. I'll keep an eye out for him when you can't. Azimio would be smart to leave you alone."

"Thanks, Mike."

"Look, I gotta go, but I wanted to see if you were okay. Don't let Azimio get to you. He keeps it up and Beiste will end him soon enough."

"Thanks, Mike." They said their goodbyes and hung up. "Mike has our backs at least. Too bad Kurt and Blaine can't be counted on."

-ooo-

The next day was glee club. Rory and Sam walked in together, but Sam ushered Rory into a seat on the other side of the room while he went to speak with Blaine. Blaine got a sudden look of terror on his face.

"Oh my god, Sam, what happened?" Kurt exclaimed. Sam ignored him and focused his attention on Blaine.

"How could you do that to me? To Rory? How could you break my trust and tell Kurt when you knew he would let it out?" Same accused.

"Sam I-" Blaine began, putting his hands up in defeat. "I didn't mean to. Kurt knew something was up and dragged it out of me, but I swore him to secrecy, too."

Kurt finally interrupted, actually nervous that Sam might get physical if he got angry enough. Anyone could see, he was mad, but more than that he was hurt. "Sam, I didn't tell anyone, not on purpose. Rachel overheard us talking after glee club. I would never intentionally out someone. That's something I would never do to anyone!"

"Kurt, I helped you last year. I thought we were friends. Why couldn't you leave it alone? Why did- damn, why did I tell anyone at all?" Sam cursed himself.

"Don't blame it all on him, Sam. I'm the one who didn't keep it to myself," Blaine pleaded. "I should have held out. I'm sorry."

Sam glared at both of them, hurt in his eyes. Only Kurt and Blaine would know it wasn't anger that fueled him. "I don't have anything else to say to you. Just leave me and Rory alone." He turned away and went to join his charge across the room.

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other. Kurt's eyes began to water. He felt terrible. Sam had come to his defense the previous year on more than one occasion, and now his own mouth had made things tough for his friends from then on.

Mr. Schuester came in, noting Sam's injury. "Déjà vu, but what happened to Sam's eye?" he asked.

"Got in a fight with Azimio yesterday. He got kicked off the team, so I'd say we're even," Sam replied flatly.

"What was the fight about?"

Rachel was about to speak but Mike beat her to the punch. "You know Azimio, Mr. Schue, he's always picking on people. This time it was Rory, and Sam came to the defense of a friend."

"Not just a friend" Rachel added. She turned to Mr. Schuester and met his eyes directly. "See, Sam and Rory are dating now, which I think is very inappropriate because of their ages, and-"

"Rachel, you just don't know when to shut up, do you? You're just a big gossip. You overheard Kurt and Blaine and just had to open your mouth, spread the word," Sam barked. "Nothing matters to you as long as it doesn't personally affect you. You don't care who gets hurt in your little fascination with drama."

Rachel looked like she was about to cry. Finn stood up, about to come to her defense, despite the fact he really had nothing that he could say that would explain her actions.

"You know what, Mr. Schue? I came back here hoping to pick up friendships where they left off, to actually be happy, but I guess I was wrong. With the exception of a couple of people in here, there's just too much drama. I'm done. I quit," Sam announced.

He grabbed his backpack and turned to Rory, his tone of voice changing to something much less angry and more along the lines of hurt and sadness. "You can stay if you want, but I can't deal with this anymore. I'm fine with your decision either way." He then walked out the door. Everyone except for Blaine and Kurt and Rachel then looked at Rory, waiting to see what his decision would be.

"I'll be back next time, but I have to go now," Rory said, picking up his bag and hurrying out after Sam.

"Sam! Wait!" Rory called after him. He jogged up behind him and put his hand on the taller boy's shoulder. "Sam, stop. Calm down."

Sam refused to turn around and face him, he was too embarrassed to let Rory see his eyes water up. Instead he just sighed. "Rory, I can't handle this. The talking behind our backs. Everyone knowing everything when I wasn't even ready."

Rory stepped around to face Sam, reached up, and wiped his eyes. "You have dust in your eyes," he said, trying to help Sam to keep his dignity. "I'm sorry it turned out this way. You can blame me, I stuck around you too much, people got wise to it."

"I don't blame you, not at all. I enjoy being around you, every minute you're with me I feel happier." Sam looked away, not used to talking so openly about his emotions. "I just wish it wasn't such a big deal. Nobody batted an eye when it was 'Sam and Quinn,' or 'Sam and Santana' or 'Sam and Mercedes,' but suddenly it becomes so big deal when it's 'Sam and Rory'. Why's it gotta be that way?"

"I don't know. In Ireland, it's not big deal. Guys, girls, nobody really cares who you date. Here, it's a big to-do."

"I'm worried. It won't take long for this to spread and my family finds out. I have no idea how they will react to that. I've always been their jock son dating the pretty cheerleaders, good at football and all that. How are they going to see me now?"

"You're still a jock who is good at football, you just aren't dating pretty cheerleaders, you're dating a funny looking Irish boy," Rory said. "Unless… unless you don't want to be dating a funny looking Irish boy anymore." He hung his head nervously, praying that Sam wouldn't confirm his fear.

Sam put his hands on Rory's shoulders and told him to look up at him. "Look here, I don't care what happens, I still want to be dating my Irish boy. My handsome, wonderful Irish boy. Not funny looking at all. Simply the most handsome man I ever met. I'm just scared of the reaction in my family. Whether we're together or not, the secret is out, so they'll find out. I'd rather at least have my Irish boy by my side to support me."

"I will be by your side Sam," Rory assured him. He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. "You have more dust in your eye." Sam grinned and wiped his eye, appreciating how Rory was catering to his ego. "Are you still going to quit glee?"

Sam thought a moment. "I really don't know. After making such a big show, I can't go back in there."

"Sure you can. Not today, but next time. Go talk to Mr. Schuester, I know he'll understand," Rory replied with his bright smile. "I'll go with you if you want."

"No, I think I better talk to him one on one. Do you want to hang around until glee club is over? I'll wait until everyone else is gone and go talk to Mr. Schue."

"Yeah, we'll go hide out somewhere until four," Rory agreed. "Come on." He took Sam by the hand and started walking toward one of the empty classrooms. The light was off and nobody was around. Rory shut the door and pushed Sam up against the wall, his hands already travelling up Sam's shirt as he started kissing him desperately.

Despite his worries, Sam let himself get lost in Rory's passion, tasting fresh mint on his tongue and breathing in the scent of his cologne. He wrapped his arms around him and squeezed, his hands traveling up the back of Rory's shirt. They continued kissing while Rory toyed with Sam's chest, tweaking his nipples, massaging his pectorals. Sam moved his hands down, slipping under the waistband of Rory's jeans to squeeze his ass. Rory was grinding his hips into Sam's the best he could, their erections straining in their jeans, rubbing against each other.

Time seemed to slow down as the continued their make-out session, hands roaming all over, and their mouths locking onto each other in sloppy, wet kisses. They would have probably gone further had they not been in a classroom at school. By the time they finally broke apart, it was already four. They were both hot and worked up, but Sam's mission was needing completion.

"We can continue this later if you want," Rory stated, grinning.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," Sam complimented. "They shine and sparkle when you smile." Rory blushed a little, but enjoyed the kind words. "I'll be back shortly." He waited until he was sure the choir room was empty save Mr. Schuester. He was busy straightening up the room, gathering up his papers.

"Mr. Schue? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Sam asked, stepping inside.

"Sure, Sam. What's going on? It's not like you to be so angry like that," Mr. Schue asked.

"I know, I'm sorry. But that's what I wanted to talk about. I don't want to quit glee club."

"I didn't think you really meant it," the teacher replied with a half smile. "You love glee."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I do. I was just really upset about everything going on. It's a lot to try and deal with at one time."

"Sam, what's really going on? I mean, with you and Rory? Are people making stuff up, or is it there truth and they're giving you crap for it?"

Sam was quiet for a minute. Mr. Schuester didn't press him; he knew that would only frustrate the teenager and he would close up without expressing himself. "It's true. We're dating. We tried to keep it a secret but Kurt found out, then Rachel, and they told everyone else, and now everyone knows."

Mr. Schue scratched his head. "There is a lot of that going around right now – secrets being exposed. Did you know Santana was just recently outed, too?" Sam nodded.

"Yeah, something about a political campaign someone was attacking Coach Sylvester and using Santana as ammo. Now everybody knows she's a lesbian, but Mr. Schue, everybody knew that anyway. It's always been obvious, and nobody cares, because she's a girl," Sam explained.

"True. Guys do have it a lot tougher. People put a lot more pressure on them, and it doesn't help that you saw everything that happened with Kurt."

"Nobody ever expected me to be this way, either, Mr. Schue. Even I didn't expect it. Now they just talk about us and make fun of us all the time," Sam complained.

"Sam, I have never seen you as someone to let people get the better of them. What about your family, do they know?

Sam shook his head quickly. "No, not at all. They have no idea. I don't know how they will react. Maybe that's what I'm afraid of more than anything else."

"Maybe, but you know I'm here for you. And I bet Kurt's dad is willing to talk to your parents too, offer his experience and advice. You're a tough guy, Sam. Don't be afraid to be who you are."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue. I appreciate that." Sam smiled at him. At least he had two adults behind him; Mr. Schuester and Coach Beiste. "So can I come back to glee club?"

Mr. Schuester smiled at him. "Of course. Anything else I can help you with Sam?"

"No thanks Mr. Schue. You've done plenty. I feel a bit better now." He turned to leave but Mr. Schue called him back.

"Hey, Sam? In another week we're going to be doing ballads with partners. You don't have to, but just think about doing one with Rory. Think of it as a big 'screw you' to everybody who wants to give you crap."

"I don't know, that's pretty personal," Sam replied.

"I know, but just consider it. I'm not going to push you to do something you don't want though. Just wanted to put it in your mind. Have a good afternoon, Sam." He smiled He knew in his mind that Sam would do it – if anything as a personal challenge, but also as a statement of strength to everyone else. In reality, he had planned something entirely different for the lesson, but plans can be changed on a whim, and that's just what he decided to do.

 


	6. Episode 6: Bravery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Beta Credits: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Everyone returned to school but somehow knew the big secret, which upset Rachel, who got blamed along with Blaine and Kurt. Sam quit glee club until Rory convinced him to come back but now he has the tough decision of what to do about his family and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 6: Bravery**

Sam and Rory sat on a bench in the courtyard of the high school, waiting for Mike Chang to get out of football practice. Sam had sent him a text message earlier in the day, asking him to meet after school, that he needed to talk to him.

"Are you sure about this, Sam?" Rory asked nervously. "This is a huge step for you. What if-"

"That's why I want to talk to Mike. In case the shit hits the fan, I need a place to go for the night," Sam replied sullenly.

Rory sighed, displeased with the fact that he was unable to offer him sanctuary if necessary. They both looked up as Mike came through the door carrying his gym bag.

"Hey, everything okay? Your text sounded pretty urgent," Mike asked, addressing Sam in particular.

"I need to ask you a favor. I'd ask Blaine or Kurt, but there's that tension thing going on right now and I can't deal with that," Sam stated.

Mike already knew what he was about to tell him. "You're going to tell your parents, aren't you?" he asked his former football buddy.

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, I kind of have to. They need to hear it from me instead of the rumor mill. I just don't know how they will react," he admitted.

Mike threw his arm around him. "You need a place to stay in case it doesn't go well?" Sam smiled and nodded. "No problem. I doubt it will come to that, though. Your parents are pretty cool, I don't think they'll throw you out. Maybe be angry or cold for a little while, but I doubt they'll toss you out."

"I hope you're right," Sam said.

"Telling them tonight?" Sam nodded in response. Mike gave him a guy-hug and patted him on the back. "What about Rory? Is he going with you?"

"Yes, I will be right by his side. Moral support," Rory answered. "I can't let him go through this alone."

"What about your family, Rory?" Mike asked curiously. He assumed they were not an immediate concern, which was correct. They were in Ireland, and no way would they find out anything. Rory explained that he wanted to tell them in person anyway, that it was out of respect. Mike could understand that – respect was a big deal in Asian culture.

"I gotta get home, I need to study for my calculus test tomorrow, but if you need me, call me. I got your backs, both of you," Mike assured. He gave them both guy-hugs and waved as he trotted off to his car.

Rory took Sam's hand, squeezing. "Sam I'll be right there next to you. I won't say anything, but I'll be right there. I think it will be alright," he said.

"Thanks, Rory. It means a lot to me." The pair rode to Sam's house in a comfortable silence, Sam rehearsing in his head everything he wanted to say, Rory praying in his own head.

"Here we go," Sam said with a gulp. Rory squeezed his hand one last time before they got out of the car.

-ooo-

Having waited for Mike after school, his parents were already home when they arrived. His father was in the living room, flipping channels on the television, his mom in the kitchen thumbing through the cookbook trying to decide on dinner. The kids were in their rooms playing. A perfect time – they weren't around and his folks were calm and relaxed.

They stopped by the kitchen first, Mrs. Evans greeting them with a smile and kiss on the cheek. She announced the meal she had chosen, but Sam needed to get this out.

"Mom? Can I talk to you and dad for a minute? It's important," he asked nervously. She cocked her head in wonderment, asking if everything was all right. He just gave her a half-smile and followed her out to the living room, where she sat down next to her husband.

"Dad, I need to talk to you guys for a minute. It's kind of important," Sam said, his voice wavering.

"Sure son, everything okay?" Mr. Evans asked, sitting up straight and clicking the TV off with the remote. Sam's throat felt dry, his heart was pounding out of his chest, and he could feel his body beginning to sweat. "Son? Go ahead, talk to us. We're here."

"Mom, dad," he stammered, finding his voice. "I need to tell you something, and I don't want you to get mad."

"Sam, honey, we love you. Tell us what's going on, you're making me nervous," his mother said, her face filled with concern.

Sam took a deep breath. "I-I'm seeing someone, and it's pretty serious," he said.

"Oh my god, is she pregnant?" his father asked quickly. Mrs. Evans smacked him in the side.

"Hush, honey, let him speak!" she scolded.

"No, 'she' isn't pregnant. It actually isn't a 'she' at all. It's a 'he.'" He gulped, his body quivering. "I'm dating another guy."

There was an uncomfortable silence at first, but it didn't last very long.

"Son, are you happy?" his dad asked.

"Yes, dad. I am," the teenager replied confidently.

"Did you wreck the car?" his dad asked next.

Sam looked confused, as did Rory. "What does- no…"

"Well, you didn't get a girl pregnant. You didn't wreck the car. What's to be mad about?" Sam started to wonder if his dad had even heard a word he had said, his response entirely strange.

"You did hear me, right?"

"You said you're dating another guy, right?" Sam nodded slowly. "This one, right?" Mr. Evans asked, nodding at Rory. "And you're happy, right?" Again he nodded. "Then there is nothing to worry about, son."

Sam started to feel better, but his mom had yet to respond. "Mom?"

"What he said, honey. We love you very much, and we want you to be happy. You're the same Sam you have always been." She then looked at Rory. "Rory, dear, are you staying for dinner?"

The two teens exchanged looks. They both let out breaths they hadn't realized they were holding. Sam nodded at Rory, signaling his approval.

"Yes ma'am, thank you," Rory replied with a smile. Mrs. Evans gave a quiet cheer and ran off to the kitchen to begin working on her meal.

"Dad, you sure you're cool with this?" Sam asked.

"You heard your mother, son. I'm no good at the sappy stuff. Just make sure you do right by him, treat him good. I raised you to be a gentleman so you better act like it, you hear me?"

Sam smiled. "Yes, sir," he answered. "Thanks, dad."

"I do have a question for you," his dad added. He addressed Rory in particular. "Rory, how old are you?"

"I'm fifteen, sir. I'll be sixteen before long though."

"Now both of you listen to me very closely. I'm not sure what laws in Ireland are, and while me and your mom are fine with your decision, the law here states that with my son being eighteen, and you under sixteen, it qualifies as statutory rape should anything..." he paused for a moment. "Should things go to a physical level."

Sam was about to speak but his father held up his hand. "I don't wanna know specifics, I just want you both to know that being public about this is risky. Rory, Sam can get in a lot of trouble. I would personally prefer if you kept this, oh what do you kids say today - on the down low - until you have turned sixteen."

"I guess I hadn't thought about that." Sam admitted. "People do know, dad. It wasn't on purpose, it was an accident, the wrong people found out, you know how it works."

Mr. Evans thought for a moment. "I suppose the best you can do now is, whether it is true or not, make a point to somehow work into a conversation about you both being virgins. Gay virgins, anyway," he said, the last part directed at his son. Sam blushed a little. "I know you kids talk, I did it too. It just wouldn't hurt if people thought you weren't getting physical."

"Thanks, dad. We'll definitely do our best to make sure everyone think- uh knows we're keeping it rated PG."

"Once you turn sixteen, Rory, it's not such a big deal. I still wouldn't advertise the physical, but it won't be as big of deal for people to know you're dating."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, enough of  _that_."

"Thanks again dad." Sam smiled. The two teens got up to leave but his dad stopped them.

"Whoa whoa, where are you going? You can't just run off like that.  _Family Guy_  is coming on! You can run off after dinner," Mr. Evans protested. Sam and Rory smiled at each other and sat back down. While they were watching the show, laughing, Sam slipped out his cell phone and sent mike a text message to let him know everything was okay.

-ooo-

Dinner was a pleasant affair. It was not the first time Rory had eaten over, so it was not filled with the usual awkward 'get to know you' questions that so often came with first meeting a new friend. Stacy and Stevie thought nothing of it, either.

Afterward, Stevie helped his mother with dishes (it was his turn this week) while Stacy followed her brother to his room. She claimed to need to get her crayons and paper, but she stopped by Sam's room first.

"Sammy, do you have a special friend yet?" she asked. Sam chuckled and grinned.

"Yeah. Yeah Stacy, I do," he replied. Her eyes lit up with excitement.

"Who is it?" she asked eagerly. Sam had wondered what exactly he should tell his siblings – they were so young and he wasn't sure his parents would appreciate them being introduced to the subject, but she had asked and it was common in the Evans family to respect a question with an honest answer.

"It's Rory. We're best friends," Sam answered her. She clapped her hands together and hopped up and down.

"I knew it Sammy! I knew Mr. Rory would be your special friend!" she cried. She then threw herself at Rory, wrapping her arms around his legs and waist. "You made my wish come true, Mr. Rory! Just like you promised. You can be my best friend, too, okay? But only Sammy is your special friend," she said.

"That sounds great to me, Stacy," Rory replied with a smile. "I hope we can be friends for a long time."

"You know what Sammy? I'm going to draw a picture for Mr. Rory!" Not waiting for a response, she quickly hotfooted it out of the room to retrieve her crayons and paper and rejoin her father in the living room. Every night they would watch a half hour of  _SpongeBob_ , and a half hour of  _Powerpuff Girls_ , the former being Stevie's pick, the latter Stacy's.

"She is adorable, Sammy!" Rory teased. "She really does love you." He gazed up at his boyfriend with bright eyes and a smile. "I can see why. You're the most amazing person I ever met."

Sam blushed a little, but was very happy to hear Rory's compliment. He hugged him tight, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing. "You are too, Ror. You are, too."

Sam went to his bedroom door and closed it. "I think for tonight at least we should keep it low key. I doubt they would bother us, but just to be sure." Rory agreed - now that his parents knew they were dating, they might be more apt to 'drop in for a visit' to possibly deter any frisky business that might go on under their roof.

They popped a movie into the player and sat on the bed, leaning on each other. It was an action movie - the latest Transformers film, which was completely mindless and filled with explosions and fighting. It was just what they needed to ease their minds - something that wouldn't take any real thought or concentration to enjoy.

There was a knock at the door, startling the boys. Rory had been leaning back against Sam's chest, the bigger teen's arms wrapped around him. They were being completely PG-rated, but Rory sat up straight as soon as Mrs. Evans peeked her head in.

"I was just going to see if you boys wanted some ice cream. I got a new flavor from the store today. It's apple pie a la mode. I figured I'd see if you wanted any before your brother and sister got into it," she said.

"Sure, mom. That'd be great. Thanks," Sam replied. Rory thanked her as well, and instead of returning to his original position, scooted himself so he was sitting next to Sam, almost a foot apart.

"Keep it PG, but you don't have to stay five feet apart," she teased as she left to go back downstairs.

"Your mom is really cool," Rory commented with a grin. He amended the situation by sliding over toward Sam again, leaning against him. Ten minutes later when Mrs. Evans returned with the ice cream, she just looked at the pair of them snuggled up next to each other and smiled.

Later that night after he had taken Rory home, Sam's mom came into his room to bid him goodnight.

"Oh honey, he's such a sweet boy. He really makes you happy doesn't he?" she asked. Sam nodded, smiling. "Then I'm happy, too. He's welcome to come over any time he wants to."

"Thanks mom," Sam said. He hugged her, and gave her a kiss on the head. "Good night, mom. I love you," he added. His dad was already in bed, but his dad wasn't much for mushy stuff anyway. Sam couldn't have felt happier at that moment - he had the most affectionate and caring boyfriend in the world, his parents not only accepted him but even encouraged him, and his siblings were even excited for him.

Sam closed his door and flipped the lock, then turned off the light. He stripped down to his boxers and got into bed, but no sooner had he pulled up the covers than his cell phone went off. He picked it up and looked at the text message.

_I'm so happy the way today turned out. I really care a lot about you, Sammy._

Sam smiled. He started to type his own reply.

_I'm relieved, happy, everything. It means so much to me that you were there with me._

He waited a moment for the reply.

_It's my honor to be with you. Goodnight, Sammy. I care so much about you!_

Sam smiled again. He hated being called Sammy by anyone but his younger siblings, but somehow he couldn't be annoyed with Rory, but instead only smile and shake his head.

_Goodnight Rory. I really like you a lot too!_

Sam thought about his response. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to change "like" to "love." He was falling for the boy, and falling hard. He would wait until the time was right, however, to tell Rory he cared for him more than just "really like" but something more along the lines of starting to love. He felt confident that Rory felt the same way - the way he looked at him, smiled at him, held his hand, snuggled with him, kissed him. Everything Rory did screamed affection and adoration. Sam was certain that Rory's feelings were growing just as strong.

-ooo-

Sam was nervous about returning to glee club after his outburst and storming from the choir room. At this point, everyone knew; his secret was out. Everyone knew he was bisexual, everyone knew he was dating Rory, and everyone knew he was struggling with the entire situation.

On top of all that, Mr. Schuester planned to announce the assignment – ballads – and he was expecting Sam and Rory to sing to one another. Well, he didn't expect it per se, but he was highly encouraging it.

Sam and Rory sat in the back row, off to the side, trying not to make a big show of their return. Mike and Tina came in, sitting next to them and making small talk. Mike asked for details on how things went with his parents. Sam explained, happily, that his family was quite supportive and were actually excited for him.

Next to come in were Quinn and Puck, who sat in the back on the opposite side. Aside from making obvious whispers about the returning pair, the football player and former cheerleader paid little attention to them.

Artie wheeled in next, greeted the group as a whole, then started talking to Rachel and Finn, who followed him inside the sat down next to him. Finn greeted Sam, but Rachel simply turned about, ignoring them. She was far from homophobic, so what was her problem?

When Blaine and Kurt came in, Kurt's mouth fell agape – surprised to see that Sam had returned after making such a scene. Blaine nodded at the blonde but then lowered his eyes in shame.

"Hey, I'll be right over, I need to talk to Sam a minute," Blaine told Kurt, handing over his backpack to his boyfriend. He nervously stepped up to the small group.

"I uh, I owe you an apology," Blaine started, staring directly at the teen. "You trusted me with your secret, and I let it slip. I know I caused a lot of trouble for you, and saying sorry isn't much, but I am sincerely sorry."

"Thank you," Sam replied. Mike, Tina, and Rory all let out breaths they had been holding in anticipation of his response. He stood up and shook Blaine's hand, accepting his apology. "My parents know now, and everything is fine. I still owe you for pushing me to being myself. Sorry for snapping so much, but I was-"

"You felt hurt, I know. It's hard when it happens when you aren't ready. You know if you need anything..."

Sam smiled and nodded his head. "Thanks, I appreciate it. Tell Kurt everything's good, we can talk later."

"Sure thing," Blaine replied, and then went to join Kurt on the other side of the room. The pair shared smiles and relief as Blaine recounted to Kurt that Sam was no longer angry with them. Sam looked over and nodded at Kurt, giving him a friendly smile.

"All right everybody, take your seats," Mr. Schuester said, coming into the room. Everyone quieted down while he explained the assignment for the week.

"Aren't ballads kind of messed up to do right now? I mean with the drama that's been going on?" Mercedes whispered to Kurt.

Kurt nodded in agreement. "It does seem really tasteless of Mr. Schuester. Almost like he's daring them to sing to each other." The rest of the club meeting consisted of the girls performing, followed by Artie, Puck, and Finn. After they were done, they were released for the day.

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom, I'll be back in a minute," Sam told Rory, leaving the room. As the younger teen sat there waiting for his boyfriend to return, Blaine, Kurt, and Finn gathered around him and Mike.

"So have you got any idea what to perform?" Mike asked. "You are going to sing to Sam, right?"

Rory nodded. "Yes, of course I am."

"Remember the song Santana and the girls sang when they wanted to cheer her up and show her support?  _I Kissed a Girl_?" Kurt asked. Rory nodded, unsure where this was going. "Well, Blaine and I rewrote it, so it applies to you guys."

"What do you mean?"

"I kissed a boy, and I liked it…" Blaine said in a low, singsong voice.

"Wait, you want me to sing that to him?" Rory asked.

Kurt pulled out his notebook from his leather bag and handed it to him. Rory looked it over, giggling a little bit. "This is what I was doing the whole time the girls were singing," Kurt explained.

"What do you think?" Blaine asked enthusiastically.

"I like it. Except I can't sing that to him," he said pointing to the paper. "It's too… It's a fun song, but I wanted something more… personal."

Kurt looked disappointed. "I really do like it, Kurt. It would be fun to do for another assignment, but this one I need something… something that truly expresses how I feel for him."

"I understand. So do you have something in mind then?" Kurt replied, still a little disappointed, but respectful of Rory's decision.

"Well… no not yet. But I'll find something. I have an entire playlist dedicated to love songs," Rory explained.

Blaine smiled. "Well if you need any help, let us know."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. "

As they were discussing ballad choices together, Quinn was outside, making a little plan of her own.

Quinn stopped Sam in the hallway as he was on his way to the bathroom. "Sam, what's this all about, hm?" she asked in her almost seductive tone.

"What do you want Quinn?" he asked, annoyed by her tone.

"I just want to understand you, Sam. We dated, I don't see why we can't have a conversation."

"Okay, fine. So go for it," he replied, crossing his arms. "You sound like you're up to something when you talk like that."

Quinn closed the distance between them and put her hand on his forearm, pulling his arms apart. "Sam, I know you're not gay. There's no way you are."

"No, I'm not gay, Quinn. I'm bisexual. There's a difference."

"Bisexuality is for people who can't admit they are one way or the other, and you, Sam, are not gay," she insisted, running her fingertips along his arm.

Sam sighed, yanking his arm away from her. "First of all, Quinn, you don't know what I am."

She changed her tone to one of sickening sweetness. "Come on Sam, we were in love. I know you still have feelings for me. Don't deny it."

"Quinn, I got over you the moment I dumped you for Santana. You broke my heart by cheating on me. Before that, we had great times together, but the entire time your mind was on Finn. You never truly loved me," he hissed.

"That's not true," she argued. "I did love you, Sam. I was in an awkward place. I was confused, but now that you're back, I want to try again, to make it right and show you-"

"Show me what? That you want someone to be your baby's daddy and carry you along? Quinn, we were friends, and I still care about you, but not in the way you want. It will never be the way you want again. You had your chance, you blew it. I'm not stupid enough to go back to someone who broke my heart," he declared.

"But Sam," she started again. "Whatever the case, I know you're not gay. Drop me forever, fine, but don't lie to yourself. You're not gay, bisexual, whatever."

Sam crossed his arms again, giving her a determined look. "Quinn, you don't know anything about me anymore. That boy in there has treated me with respect, admiration and caring. He makes me happy. When I'm with him, my heart feels full. I felt that way with you once, but this feels so much more right."

Quinn's eyes began to water. This was not going the way she wanted. "Sam…" She put her hand on his arm again.

"I still care about you, but until you can respect me and my choice, we can't be friends. I don't want that kind of negativity," he told her with a lighter tone. "If you can learn to respect us, then I would love for you to be my friend again. Until then…" he stopped.

He started to leave, but she grabbed him by the arm once more. He turned to her, and said in a firm but gentle tone, "Don't touch me like that, Quinn." She pulled her hand back, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'd love to be friends again – make the right decision," he urged.

-ooo-

Sam returned to the choir room, a little dazed, but still noticing Rory and the small group that suddenly disbanded when they noticed him.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"Oh, they were just helping me decide on my song," Rory answered with a smile.

"Oh? What did you pick?"

Rory gave a mischievous grin, poking him in the middle of his chest. "I'm not telling. It's a ballad – it won't mean as much if you already know what it is," he replied. "I guess you will just have to see."

Sam grinned. "Alright, fair enough. We only have a couple of days, though. I need to work on mine too. Do you mind if we don't hang out tomorrow? I can work on my song and you can work on yours."

Rory smiled back at him. It would give him just enough time to meet back up with the boys and work on their little mission. As the pair rode to Sam's for the afternoon, he was already rewriting the verses in his head.

-ooo-

Rory sat on Sam's bed, his English textbook in his lap, a pen and paper beside him. He had been twirling the pen between his fingers for the past half hour, and hadn't turned a page in the book, either.

"Something on your mind?" Sam asked.

"Hmm?"

"You've been playing with that pen for a half hour and you've read that same page at least fifty times. I'm dyslexic and still read better than that," Sam observed. "So, is something on your mind?"

Rory was quiet for a moment.  _Yes, there's plenty on my mind. But can I bring myself to share it all? I don't know yet._

"You can talk to me about anything, I am your boyfriend. That's what I'm here for," Sam stated. He made a pouty face, eliciting a chuckle from the other boy.

"I just have a lot to think about," Rory replied. He looked at Sam, sitting in his chair, making a face, his eyes begging him to speak.

"Please, talk to me? Something's bothering you. Is it the other glee club kids? Azimio? Classmates? A teacher?"

"No, well, sort of, but not just that."

Sam smiled, moved onto the bed next to him, setting the book aside and putting his arm around Rory. "Let it out, you'll feel better."

Rory sighed, knowing that if he spoke the words, it would make it all real, but Sam was insistent. "I'm… I'm worried about telling my family when I get home. And then there's the issue of going home – I have to go back eventually, and then what? Leave you here, leave my happiness behind?"

Sam has been thinking about that as well, despite trying to push it out of his head. "I honestly don't know, Ror. I wish I had an answer. Both of those things can be set aside for now, though. You don't have to tell your parents anytime soon, and we have several months to think about the rest. Let's just focus on us right now, okay?"

"I know, Sam. I can't help it, I worry that way. You're the closest I have ever been to anyone in my life. I don't want to give that up." Rory had tears streaming down his face. Sam leaned over, kissed him, and then wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

"Don't cry. You'll make your beautiful eyes all red and sore. You do have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Better than any girl's. I look in them and I see so much life, and energy, and the ocean." Sam knew his words work corny, words that Santana had made fun of before, but he had to express them.

Sam lifted the boy's chin with his hand, forcing Rory to look him in the eyes. He kissed him again while rubbing his back, trying to sooth the young teen. "What else is bothering you?"

"I hear the things people say at school. The whispers in the hall, the jokes, the mean things they say. They call us fags and queers, say that I turned you with magic or something. The boys in the locker room act like I'm going to touch them or something. It's humiliating."

"I've heard it, too. The thing is, we can't let it get to us. If it does, it ruins our happiness. None of those people are your friends, so who cares what they think? If they want to think you cast some spell on me, then so be it." Sam pulled him closer, holding him tight, nuzzling his chin in Rory's hair.

"You're strong, Ror. Way stronger than you think. You came here, by yourself, to a new country, to a school you didn't know. You didn't have a friend, no one to guide you because I'm pretty sure the only thing Brittany taught you was how to feed her cat cheese. You were totally on your own. But you know what? You did it. You made friends. You joined a club. You have a social life, and talent, and…"

"Sam, stop," Rory said, blushing. His face was already red from crying, so Sam couldn't see his embarrassment.

"No, I won't stop. You need to know it. You're the strongest person I ever met. I doubt I could do it – go to a strange land with nobody, not even family. I admire you a lot, Rory."

The young teen was openly crying, tears streaming down his face in torrents. He buried his face in Sam's chest, his arms wrapped around him. Sam rubbed his back, patted his head, and just held him close and rocked back and forth with him.

"Calm down, calm down," he cooed softly. "It's okay. Everything will be okay."

Rory finally sat back up straight, sniffling. "Sam, there's something else on my mind, too."

Sam cocked his head. "What is it?"

"I… I'm afraid to say it…"

"Why?" Sam was confused. What was so scary to say?

"I… I'm afraid because I don't know how you will react or feel to what I want to say," Rory admitted.

"Just say it," Sam urged, holding his hands in his.

Rory took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then looked Sam right in his own greenish eyes. "Sam… I… I love you."

Sam beamed.  _He said he loved me. He said those words. He loves me. He feels the same way I do. He's so worried and scared, but he loves me._

"I'm so glad to hear that. Again you're the strong one. The one with the balls to say it out loud," Sam complimented. "I love you, too, Rory. I was just too chicken to voice it first."

The pair stared at each other for a solid minute, unsure of what to do next. What does someone do after declaring their love?

Sam pushed Rory on his back, both of them stretching out on the bed. They lie facing each other, smiling, eyes sparkling.

"So… what now?" Rory asked apprehensively.

"Now? Now we take a nap, because I want to lie next to you and just fall asleep. No reason at all," Sam declared.

"Sam, I lied. There's one more thing," Rory said softly.

"Hold off on the marriage proposal, it isn't legal in the states yet," Sam joked. Rory's eyes widened for a moment before he understood it was a joke. "No, really, what's up?"

Rory gave him a half smile. "I uhm, I'm kind of embarrassed to say it, but uhm, well, you know those movies Blaine gave you?" Sam nodded his head. "Well, I kind of… I kind of want to try some of that."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Anything in particular?"

Rory blushed again, his face feeling hot. "I… I want to try submitting to you."

"Submitting?"  _That sounds pretty kinky. That's can't be what he means. Oh, I bet he means he wants to have sex. I bet he wants to be the receiver._

"I don't know the right word, but I want to… I want you to do to me what you do to the girls. You know, be... make love to me. The way you do to the girls."

"So you mean you want to have sex, and you want to receive, is that it?"

If Rory could blush any darker, he would have right then. "Yes…" he said almost silently.

"Rory Flanagan, I would be honored to make love to you. But uh, I think we might wanna do a little more research. Like watch what they do in the movies a bit. I don't want to mess up and make it bad for you."

"That sounds like a good idea."

Sam was still smiling at him. "Come on, let's get to that nap. So I can fall asleep looking at your handsome face."

"Okay, but only for an hour maybe. I still have that homework to finish."

"Okay, I'll set my phone alarm. " Sam reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. He punched a few buttons and then set it on the nightstand. He turned out the lights then returned to the bed. After once again professing their love for each other, they drifted off into a short sleep.

-ooo-

After waking up from their nap, Sam took Rory home to Brittany's. When he got back home, he booted up his computer and started looking through his iTunes library, trying to think of what song to choose.

_I wish I hadn't sung_ I Had the Time of My Life _with Quinn. That would be the perfect song. Damn. All these tracks where the hell do I begin?_

He had already decided to sing his ballad to Rory, just as Mr. Schuester had suggested. Now that the big secret was out, there was no reason not to sing to him. The hard part was figuring out which song we wanted, that expressed what he wanted.

_Should I go with something deeply love-filled, or lighter hearted? I didn't think this was going to be so hard!_   _I don't think I have ever put this much effort into a glee assignment._

Despite having already planned to work on his song the next day, he stayed up all night long debating on his selection. Eleven passed by, then midnight, and then one. Finally at exactly five past one, the perfect song hit him. Satisfied with his selection he went to bed, exhausted.

As had often happened, he dreamt about Rory. It got a little weird, however, when Mike Chang showed up, ready to participate with the couple. When Sam woke up, he had the typical 'morning wood' but he felt kind of strange being turned on by Mike.

Laughing it off, he got up and went on with getting ready. Since gaining his infatuation with his boyfriend, he spent extra time choosing his outfits, fixing his air, and choosing just the right cologne. With Quinn and Santana, he never felt the undying need to impress, but with Rory, he wanted to always look his best, so that when they walked down the hall together, Rory could point at him and say "That guy right there is my boyfriend, I'm proud."

-ooo-

"So how is your song coming?" Sam asked at lunch.

"Great, actually. How about yours?" Rory replied with a grin. He was so excited about performing for him.

"Good. I stayed up all night choosing a song, but I got one and have all afternoon to practice."

"I'm sure it's going to be great," Rory assured him. "By the way, you look really nice today." Sam smiled, gave him a peck on the cheek, and thanked him.  _If Blaine and Kurt can kiss in public, why can't we?_  Sam thought.

Rory blushed. "Should you do that out here, in front of everyone?" he whispered, looking around to see if they were being observed.

"Sure, why not? I used to kiss Quinn all the time. What's the difference?" Sam replied. But then a thought dawned on him. "Wait, does it make you uncomfortable?"

Rory hesitated. "I… I just don't want to draw attention to us. So far we've been lucky, aside from the incident with Azimio. I'm still nervous about it, though," he confessed. Sam put his arm around him.

"You let me handle Azimio." Sam said, unconsciously touching his eye. It had gone down a lot, now only a faint purple and yellow.

Sam felt a sharp tapping on his shoulder. "Can I interrupt? Please?" It was Rachel. She didn't sound herself entirely. She sounded sad.

"Sure," Rory answered before Sam could take out any anger he may have still had for her.

"I know you're mad at me. I can totally understand - I would be mad at me, too. What I did was wrong, but I want to explain what happened," she pleaded. Sam stared at her blank faced, but nodded for her to go on.

"I didn't intentionally mean to out you. It's true, I overheard Kurt and Blaine, but I didn't hear the entire conversation. I guess I am a really poor eavesdropper. Anyway, when I heard it was the two of you dating, I was surprised," she explained.

"Okay, fine, I get that, but then why did you out us? You have two gay dads, you should understand more than anyone else," Sam asked.

Rachel sighed. "Well, see, not realizing it was still a secret, I started to ask questions. Like I said at the beginning, I thought he was too young for you. He's only fifteen, you could get arrested. I asked Finn what he thought, and someone else heard - but I don't know who. Before I knew it, everyone knew."

"So you overheard Blaine and Kurt, and then someone overheard you and Finn?" Sam verified. Rachel nodded her head.

"If I had just heard the whole conversation, and didn't jump to conclusions, none of this would have happened."

"If it was an accident, why didn't you say anything the other day in glee club?" Sam inquired. He was on his A-game with his cross-examination of her.

Rachel steeled herself. "Because I did feel responsible, accident or no. Not knowing who else heard me, I can't shuck the blame elsewhere. It was my fault, and I have to accept responsibility for that. It's not fair to blame anyone else who knew after I did." Despite her attempt at courage, she was starting to tear up.

"Sam, Rory, I know it's not much, but please accept my apology. I overreacted when I yelled at you, and I have been kind of rude to you both. That's not me, but I have no explanation, either. I understand if you don't want to be friends anymore, but I wanted to make amends at least." Neither Sam nor Rory said anything as she turned away to leave.

"Rachel, wait." Sam ordered. He looked to Rory for approval as he stood up and hugged her. "None of it matters anymore. My family knows, and they accept it. It's been a big mess, but it's over with. I can't - I can't let this destroy my friendships. You've always been nice to me before this, so I think we can overlook it, yeah?"

Rachel's eyes lit up and she smiled wide. "I'm so glad to hear you say that. I don't want us to not be friends." The trio exchanged more hugs before Rachel excused herself.

"Things are looking up I think," Rory said, grinning.

-ooo-

The rest of the day seemed to drag. Classes were incredibly dull, but there was very little homework assigned at least. That would leave both boys with more time to work on their assignment for glee.

Since they had agreed to time alone for the afternoon, Sam rode home by himself for the first time since he got back to McKinley. It felt weird - he was so used to Rory being right next to him, his occasional resting of his hand on top of Sam's as he drove. It almost felt wrong to be going home without him tagging along.

When Sam got home, he fired up his laptop and started playing the song he picked. Aerosmith's  _Amazing._  It expressed several things he felt – identifying the confusion when he started to feel for Rory, fighting through the pain of coming back to a sour welcome, realizing that there was salvation for him in his new boyfriend. The latter verses expressed the need to take things slow, even if sometimes it's hard to listen to yourself.

_I sure hope he gets the points I'm trying to make. He's changed my life._

"What-cha doing Sammy?" Stacy asked excitedly, coming into his room. He set down his guitar on the bed and gave her a hug.

"I'm working on an assignment for glee club," he answered her.

"Can't you come play football with me for a little while?" Stevie begged. Sam didn't want to waste any time not rehearsing, but he owed his little brother some quality time. He gave in, sent them out back to warm up while he changed.

Sam agreed to play with them for an hour, until dinner was ready, but then he had to get back to work after. Stevie accepted the deal and made sure to give his older brother a run for his money. He was definitely going to follow in his footsteps as an athlete.

"Where's Mr. Rory?" Stacy asked at dinner, noticing his absence and becoming slightly worried.

"He's at home, working on his own assignment," Sam replied. Stacy wasn't satisfied with that – she wanted to know why they didn't work on it together. "Because we're singing ballads, and they're kind of personal. You sing them to someone else, like in the movies," he explained.

"Are you gonna sing your song to Mr. Rory?" the young girl asked excitedly. When Sam answered in the affirmative, she hopped up and down in her chair, cheering. "I want to listen to you practice! Please, Sammy, please!"

"Stacy, honey, Sam needs to his privacy so he can get it just right. He wants to impress his friend, don't you Sam?" his mother intervened. He nodded his head, wondering if his parents had or were planning to discuss with his siblings the nature of his relationship to Rory. Stacy already knew Rory was his 'special friend,' but what did she even mean by that?

After dinner, Sam locked himself in his room, making small notes on the sheet music and lyrics, memorizing the beat, and reading through the lines. He sang the set four times in succession, making sure to adjust the pacing, and fix problem spots.

Choreography was harder to practice since he had to make it up himself, with no input from others. He wasn't the strongest dancer, but still better than Finn. He resorted to practicing with a chair in the middle of the room, pretending it was Rory sitting in it.

-ooo-

"Okay, watch how I dance and try to move your body the same way. I noticed in your dancing you can be kind of stiff," Blaine advised. "Just relax. Don't try so hard. Just move to the beat."

Kurt turned on the music and sang along while Rory tried to mimic Blaine's movements. "Pick up your feet! Okay, that's better. Now don't be afraid to put your hands on yourself, like this."

Blaine started to rub his hands all over his own chest, up and down his sides, and even crouching down to rub his legs. "You want to put on the air of sex without turning yourself on. Move your hips."

Rory continued to try and mime his movements but was still a little stiff when it came to his hips and putting his hands on himself. Blaine rolled his eyes when he couldn't see, and came up behind him.

"Move like this, okay?" he said, putting his hands on Rory's hips and guiding them around. "Relax, dammit. You need to let yourself flow." He then put his hands over top the younger boy's and started to move them across himself.

"Okay, that's enough of that!" Kurt scolded.

"Yeah, he's right. Getting too personal, sorry," Blaine apologized. "Look, just loosen up, okay? Remember what Mike taught you and add in some liquid movements and you'll do fine. If you want, you can even drag Sam up and dance with him, but keep it PG."

"I don't think that song is particularly leading to a full on pole dance, Blaine. He just wanted to learn how to do more than sway," Kurt pointed out.

Rory laughed. "Kurt's right, but I am pretty bad at dancing in general. I'll take whatever help I can get."

"Okay well try this," Kurt said, hopping up. He and Blaine continued trying to teach Rory some moves for about another hour until it was time to go.

Blaine dropped Rory off at home, leaving him to practice on his own. He felt a little more at ease without an audience, able to relax himself. He put on his iPod and started dancing, totally oblivious to Brittany, who had poked her head in the door to tell him goodnight.

_Wow, who knew he could dance so sexy? I wonder if he'd let me dance with him like that. No no I have to be good, I have Santana now. Boys are supposed to be icky. I'll leave him alone._ As she closed the door behind her, she still couldn't get her mind off seeing his rear end, moving to the beat.

-ooo-

Sleep finally overtook Sam, sending him off to dreamland once more. This time he dreamt that Azimio was harassing Rory in the hallway, and Sam came along with super human strength and dragged him away from the lockers, slamming him into the wall, the floor, and then throwing him out of a glass window.

His dream then shifted to Rory leaping into his arms and throwing him to the floor right in the hallway with everyone watching - including the entire glee club - as the younger teenager ripped Sam's shirt open, then tore off his own, and wildly began to make out with him, then reach down and tear off both of their pants, exposing everything to everyone, and then Rory sat on top of his hardening penis and started to ride him, bucking up and down, stroking himself as he was impaled on Sam's dick over and over again.

When Sam woke up he was surprised to find that his boxers were wet and sticky. Getting out of the bed, he gingerly took off his boxers and examined them. Sure enough, his intensely sexual dream had actually caused him to cum in his sleep - a phenomenon that hadn't happened to him since he was twelve and discovered masturbation.

Amused but also annoyed at the mess, he pulled on a fresh pair to wear down the hall to the bathroom to shower and get ready for school. He chuckled to himself as he took off his new boxers and stepped in the shower.  _Having wet dreams like some kid. At least it was worth it. I wonder when he wants to try that. I don't want to hurt him, but it would feel so good, and if it would make him feel good too, then all the better. Maybe after we've done some more of the stuff we already did, I'll ask him about it. I guess I'll have to resort to the internet to find out how to do it right - I don't want to hurt him at all. I want it to be amazing for us both._  Lost in his thoughts he hardly noticed that his dad was knocking on the door, warning him not to use up all the hot water.

 


	7. Episode 7: Performances and Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews! Several have expressed that I continue with this story and I promise you, there is plenty more to come! My goal, if I can pull it off, is to have an entire 'season,' or 22 Episodes/chapters, but I may or may not be able to pull that off, in the meantime, I will strive to keep the story going for as long as I can without it jumping any sharks!_
> 
> **Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Mr. Schuester assigned the glee club to work on ballads, but they're having a hard time choosing songs. Sam came out to his parents and now everything is okay. Blaine and Rachel apologized and now everyone is friends again except Quinn is in denial and getting over it is the only way she can be friends with Sam again that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 7: Performances and Plans**

"Alright, today is performance day, so everyone get comfortable and relax. I'm looking forward to these since we haven't done ballads in a long time," Mr. Schuester announced at the beginning of the club meet. Surprisingly enough, Rachel had nothing to add, as was custom. Instead she simply hopped up, ready to go first, as if anyone expected different.

Rachel dragged Finn up with her and after a short speech about how wonderful Finn was and how her career will blossom because of him, and a whole lot of other self-indulgent comments, she began to sing. Despite her potential for being obnoxious, she really had a beautiful voice.

After she finished her serenade, they switched up and Finn sang to her, noting that she was the best girlfriend ever – forgoing a long speech for the short and sweet sentiment.

Next up were Kurt and Blaine, both having a horde of sickeningly sweet things to say about each other before they broke into song. After Blaine had publicly apologized, Sam's feelings of anger and hurt had subsided into nothing, allowing him to enjoy the performance.

Following the two boys, Puck and Quinn were up next. Puck may have sung his song to her, but it was obvious he had someone else in mind the entire time. Quinn took the higher road and sang back to him, complimenting his efforts to be a parent to their daughter.

Artie, being single, took it in stride and called Sugar to the front, singing a song to her as a friend. He made sure his motives were clear - that it was purely friendship, even if he did harmlessly flirt just a little bit. Sugar sang right back to him, surprisingly much better than the last time she had soloed in front of the group, a horrific scene that neither Rory nor Sam had been privy to.

Mercedes surprised everyone by singing to Mr. Schuester, also making amends for their previous disagreements that resulted in the formation of the Troubletones. It had been the first time she had apologized to him in any capacity for her harsh words and attitude.

Mike and Tina volunteered next. Everyone remembered the last time Tina sang a ballad; she broke out into hysterics, overcome with her love for Mike. While she did tear up, she managed to keep her composure. Mike's version of a ballad was mostly what Mr. Schue referred to as interpretive dance, but there was enough song involved for him to get away with it. Again, Tina was able to receive the sentiments without losing herself.

Brittany and Santana went next, finally secure in the fact that they were indeed in a relationship. To everyone else, it seemed no big deal, but to Santana in particular, it was a big step for her to sing to Brittany without hidden meanings she hoped nobody would pick up on.

"Well, gentlemen, looks like you're up," Mr. Schue said, motioning for them to get on with their performance. Rory decided to let Sam go first, wanting to close out the session himself. He sat in a chair in the center of the room, smiling at Sam.

"You can do this," Rory whispered encouragingly, knowing that Sam was nervous as hell about singing a ballad to his boyfriend in front of the entire group.

Sam cleared his throat, "I just wanted to say that since coming back here, I have found the best friend I could ever have, and I am thankful that I have the support in my life so I can openly be with him as boyfriends." Blaine sat at the back of the room, grinning widely. Mentally he was giving Sam thumbs up. He had seen him change so much in such a short period of time.

Sam cued the music to start, stood in front of Rory, looked him right in his eyes, seeing ocean blue sparkles and smiled. "This is for you, baby.  _Amazing_  by Aerosmith," he declared.

_I kept the right ones out_

_And let the wrong ones in_

_Had an angel of mercy_

_To see me through all my sin_

_There were times in my life_

_When I was going insane_

_Trying to walk through the pain_

Sam paced in front of Rory as he sang, never taking his eyes off of him. There was no one else in the room as far as either boy was concerned.

_When I lost my grip_

_And I hit the floor_

_I thought I could leave_

_But I couldn't get out the door_

_I was so sick and tired_

_Of living a lie_

_I was wishing that I would die_

Sam finally turned around to face the audience, making motions of struggle with his hands, as if he were begging for some sort of end.

_You're amazing_

_With the blink of an eye_

_I finally saw the light_

_You're amazing_

_That when the moment arrives_

_I know I'll be alright_

_You're amazing_

_And I'm saying a prayer_

_For the desperate hearts tonight_

When he hit the chorus, he turned around to face Rory again, holding his hand out as if to reach for him, again locking eyes.

_That one last shot's a permanent vacation_

_And how high can you fly with broken wings_

_Life's a journey, not a destination_

_And I just can't tell what tomorrow brings_

By the time Sam got to the final chorus, he was overwhelmed with passion, his voice powerful and loud. It may as well have been Steven Tyler standing there singing, his voice was so perfect for the song.

_You're amazing_

_With the blink of an eye_

_I finally saw the light_

_You're amazing_

_That when the moment arrives_

_I know I'll be alright_

_You're amazing_

_And I'm saying a prayer_

_For the desperate hearts tonight_

Finally, he pulled Rory up out of the chair, hugging him tightly, singing the final chorus one more time quietly in his ear until he faded into silence. They both came back to reality when they heard the clapping and cheering of their friends.

"He goes from Justin Bieber to Aerosmith?" Puck whispered to Quinn. "I never saw that coming." He was grinning when he said it, proud that his former football comrade had chosen something a little more rock and roll than "The Biebs." He gave him two thumbs up and a whistle.

"That was wonderful!" Rory complimented. He kissed Sam on the cheek and then motioned for him to get back in the crowd. "I would have played the music for you meself for this, but we 'aven't finished our lesson yet. This is by Colbie Caillat, and it says e'erything I want to say."

 _He's nervous. His accent's coming out stronger again, really strong,_ Sam thought.  _I haven't heard him speak that thick since we met._ He gave him an easing smile, and waited for him to start.

_I don't know but_

_I think I maybe_

_Fallin' for you_

_Dropping so quickly_

_Maybe I should_

_Keep this to myself_

_Waiting 'til I_

_Know you better_

Rory tried to block out everyone else in the room to ease his nerves. It wasn't them so much that shook him up, but rather he was incredibly worried that Sam might not like his selection.

_I am trying_

_Not to tell you_

_But I want to do_

_I'm scared of what you'll say_

_So I'm hiding what I'm feeling_

_But I'm tired of_

_Holding this inside my head_

Blaine's dance lessons were coming in handy as Rory finally started to dance around, moving his feet and letting his body get into the beat.

_I've been spending all my time_

_Just thinking about ya_

_I don't know what to do_

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I've been waiting all my life_

_And now I found ya_

_I don't know what to do_

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I'm fallin' for you_

The entire song was like a recollection of how their relationship started – slow, innocent, and caring. To everyone's surprise, Puck stood up, grabbing his guitar from next to himself and starting to strum the beat of the song.

_As I'm standing here_

_And you hold my hand_

_Pull me towards you_

_And we start to dance_

_All around us_

_I see nobody_

_Here in silence_

_It's just you and me_

Puck slowly stepped down to the floor and started to sway back and forth, fading into the background so the focus never came off the Irish singer, but the music was still there.

_I'm trying_

_Not to tell you_

_But I want to_

_I'm scared of what you'll say_

_So I'm hiding what I'm feeling_

_But I'm tired of_

_Holding this inside my head_

At this point, Rory took Sam by the hand and started to dance with him, shuffling from right to left, forward and back, following the simple beat.

_I've been spending all my time_

_Just thinking about ya_

_I don't know what to do_

"Look, there and there, I showed him that," Blaine whispered to Kurt with a smile as he noted Rory's more fluid movements.

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I've been waiting all my life_

_and now I found ya_

_I don't know what to_

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I'm fallin' for you_

_Oh I just can't take it_

_My heart is racing_

_The emotions keep spilling out_

For the millionth time in the past ten minutes, their eyes met again, but they never stopped their dancing, holding each other's hands.

_I've been spending all my time_

_Just thinking about ya_

_I don't know what to_

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I've been waiting all my life_

_and now I found ya_

_I don't know what to_

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I'm fallin' for you_

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I can't stop thinking about it_

_I want you all around me_

_And now I just can't hide it_

_I think I'm fallin' for you_

_I'm fallin' for you_

As Rory finished up the song, he skillfully twirled Sam into his arms, barely keeping him on his feet. They shared a laugh as clapping and cheering began. It was only then that Rory remembered that they were actually performing in front of the club.

Mr. Schue was very pleased with not only his performance, but his choice of song as well. "Great job, Rory. I'm glad to hear you do something more upbeat, and you have obviously been improving on your dancing too."

As everyone mingled and started to leave, Santana stopped Rory and smiled at him. "That was really good. I still don't like you, but you did a good job anyway." That was probably the closest thing to nice that she ever said to him.

"Can't we call a truce, you and me?" he asked, hopeful to sever yet another source of tension.

Santana laughed. "Don't push your luck, leprechaun. Just be thankful I might lay off a little bit."

-ooo-

"You really liked the song?" Rory asked him on the way to his house, grinning from ear to ear.

"Very much. It looks like you worked on your footwork too."

"Blaine helped me," Rory explained. "He told me to be more fluid. I should loosen up. I was so nervous, but I just did what he told me I should do."

"I could tell you were nervous. Your accent was stronger. I noticed that when you get nervous, you do that," Sam observed.

Rory looked confused. "Do what?"

"Your accent. It gets more noticeable. The way you pronounce things and stuff." Rory looked unsure if he should be offended or not. "It's cute, trust me. I love your accent. You can read me the encyclopedia if you want to, just keep your accent!" Both boys began laughing, but when they finally calmed down, a strange silence fell in the car.

Sam put his hand on Rory's knee. "You know we're seriously going to have to talk about what to do when the school year ends."

Rory sighed, having already discussed this vaguely a few nights before; he wasn't ready to visit that emotional level again any time soon.

"I know, but not right now. I know it's stupid to put it off, but we still have a while. I don't want to think about it today, please." Rory pleaded.

"We won't. Later on down the road, though."

"I didn't mean in a kilometer or two, I meant some other day," Rory replied. Sam was confused. "You said 'later on down the road,' so that means before we get to your house, right?"

Sam laughed. "Oh no, no, no. 'Later on down the road' is an expression we use to mean… well, just later." Rory smiled and laughed at himself.

 _Trash talk, dodge ball, later on down the road – all these expressions are so weird, but kind of funny,_ Rory thought.  _I'd rather think about funny phrases all day than think about what happens when I go home. I just can't think about it._

-ooo-

When Sam and Rory went into the house, Sam's parents were sitting at the table, looking at brochures and flyers. His siblings were nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, what's up?" Sam asked when they motioned him over.

His mother was smiling. "We're going to go away for the week, me and your dad. Our first vacation since we got back on our feet."

"We're leaving next Friday and coming back the following Friday," his dad added.

Sam looked from parent to parent. "Am I going to have to watch-?"

His mom shook her head, still smiling. "Oh no, honey, don't worry. The kids will be at your aunt's. We're dropping them off on our way out."

"They're going to stay with her and your uncle- a little vacation away from home, and it gives you a chance to be a teenager again for a week," his dad told him. "You know the deal, son. No parties, no drinking, no skipping school, and don't end up in jail."

A whole week with the house to himself? No parents, no siblings? Just an empty house with the pool, hot tub, and raging hormones?

"Do you think you can make up some story to tell Brit's parents so you can stay over all week?" Sam asked once they were up in the safety of his room. Not even ten minutes with the news and already planning mischief.

"I'm not very good at lying, but maybe we could come up with something. It would be wonderful to spend the week here with you," Rory answered, grinning, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

The rest of the afternoon they spent finishing miniscule amounts of homework, followed by a few games of  _Madden NFL_  and  _Fifa Soccer_  on Sam's PlayStation. They were both better at their respective sports than the other, making for a competitive evening.

"You really kicked my ass on that soccer game," Sam admitted.

"I've been playing Irish football since I was a kid. I was on the team at home, too," Rory told him, smirking.

"I guess that's why you have such nice legs. All that running around, kicking balls all day," Sam replied suggestively. "I don't know about Ireland, but here in the States when a team wins a game, they get a reward."

"We have that, too. Usually a trophy of some sort, but that's just for the special events."

"I have a reward for you, one you'll like much better than a trophy," Sam suggested, his lips spreading in a wide grin, his eyes full of hunger. He slid down into the floor, kneeling between Rory's legs.

Rory smiled, suddenly aroused. Sam ran his hands up Rory's legs until he reached the waist of his jeans, then unzipped them and slowly, seductively, slid them and his underwear down to his ankles, revealing his growing erection.

"Looks like you're all ready to receive your reward, soccer star," Sam teased. He glanced behind him quickly to make sure the door was locked, just in case his siblings decided they had a sudden urge to come hang out with their big brother, and then he started to massage Rory's inner thighs, running small circles around with his thumbs.

"Wow, you're tense. You need some working out here," Sam teased, just looking for an excuse to keep touching those tightly corded legs. He worked his thumbs harder, then his fingers, moving his hands higher and higher until he was right at Rory's groin.

Sam caressed Rory's balls, kneading them between his fingertips, gently tugging on the thin hairs. Rory let out a quiet whimper as Sam squeezed just a little harder, playfully. Sam then wrapped his fist around the shaft with one hand, then used the other hand to slowly slide his foreskin up and down. Rory whimpered again as Sam took his thumb and rubbed it in circles on the moist head, a couple drops of clear stickiness dripping out of the slit.

"Oh my God that feels good, Sam," Rory whispered. Sam grinned and without warning, pulled his hands away and shoved his face right down on top of the throbbing dick, wrapping his lips around the base. Rory gasped loudly at the unexpected sensation.

"Gotta be quiet," Sam said, but with his mouth full, it just came out as muffled, "Gaga he kai it." Rory got the meaning and kept his voice down as Sam continued to massage the meaty pole with his tongue. Up and down the shaft he went, then pulling his head back, keeping his lips around the head and sucking, teasing his slit with the tip of his tongue.

"Please don't stop," Rory pleaded softly, leaning back a bit, closing his eyes and breathing heavily.

"What was that?" Sam asked, pulling off Rory's dick and sitting back on his haunches. "Don't stop?"

Rory's eyes snapped back open as Sam taunted him. "Oh please don't stop, it feels so good," he pleaded. He met eyes with Sam – his slightly older boyfriend smirking in playful torment.

"I don't know. I should probably stop. You did lose at the football games…"

Rory's eyes widened in terrified arousal. "Oh please, Sam, don't stop, please!" he begged, his voice rising just a little bit with the excitement.

"Hmm… I guess I can finish what I started," Sam grinned. "But you gotta do a little bit of work, too."

"What?"

"Fuck my face," Sam said pointedly. It sounded vulgar, but when hormones took over, speech tended to get a little raunchier.

"If you want me to keep going, you have to make me keep going." Without further explanation, he lowered his face back into the clean-scented crotch of his boyfriend, bobbing his head up and down. He was trying to entice him to thrust into his mouth the way he had seen on one of the movies Blaine had given him.

Sam varied the speed of his sucking, going fast, then slow, then almost stopping, then fast again. He got a steady rhythm going, bringing the younger teen to a state of extreme arousal. Rory let his hormones take control as he started to buck his hips, placing his hands behind Sam's head to hold it in place, thrusting into his mouth.

Sam had very little gag reflex, which was a very good thing since Rory had gotten himself into such a frenzy bucking his hips and keeping Sam's face in place that he was effectively deep throating him whether Sam wanted to or not. Rory was biting his lips to keep himself quiet as his crotch was lit up with sexual pleasure.

Before long, Rory couldn't hold back anymore and blasted the load he had been holding back right into Sam's eager mouth. It was like a floodgate opened, volley after volley of hot sticky cum gushing from his cock down the gaping throat. It was near impossible to stay quiet, but somehow they both managed.

Sam continued to fellate him even after he finished his orgasm, torturing him with 'over-pleasure,' sensations beyond what he could effectively handle. Rory squirmed and tried to get away but Sam's mouth was locked on, his strong hands holding onto the boy to keep him in place. Sam kept sucking, massaging, teasing, and finally after another minute or two, actually coaxed a second orgasm out of him – an event that while rare, was achievable with the proper stimulation.

Rory was trembling when Sam finally had mercy and unlatched his mouth. He leaned over and lay on top of Rory, then kissed him. Rory could taste the sticky fluid that had just come from his own loins, still fresh on Sam's lips. He kissed him feverishly, sucking on his thick lips.

"That was amazing," Rory sighed. Sam had worn him out, draining every bit of energy from his body along with the semen. He just lay there, recovering, while Sam lay down next to him, pulling his own jeans down and masturbating.

"Do you want me to help you out?" Rory asked, breathless. Sam shook his head.

"No, this was your treat. Maybe next time I win at football, I'll get a reward," the blonde joked, licking his lips again. "Can you taste my chapstick?"

Rory laughed. "Yes! It doesn't have a flavor though. I just taste your lips." Sam smiled and continued his task, stroking faster and faster. He had lifted up the hem of his shirt, exposing his abs, which were soon covered in splotches of hot cum.

"Oh man, that felt so good," Sam sighed. He started to wipe his hand on his stomach but Rory grabbed it, licking the cum off of his hand. He then sat up, leaned over, and licked every last bit of it off of Sam's abdomen.

"Sorry. I just wanted to taste you," Rory explained with a smile. Sated, both boys pulled up their pants and then lay on the bed, cuddling. Sam wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, nuzzling his neck with his chin.

"I love you, Rory."

Rory turned around to look Sam in the eyes. Sparkling blue meeting shining green, trouty mouth meeting a leprechaun.

"I love you too, Sam," Rory replied. Sam held him tighter, the pair of them snuggling on the bed, almost falling asleep until a knock at the door.

"Sammy! You and Mr. Rory come out and watch! We made a play!" Stacy yelled through the door. She and her brother often liked to make little 'performances' for the family, proving that being artists ran in the family – from music, to theater and even drawing, as was evidenced by Stacy's drawing on Rory's desk back at Brittany's.

"Come on, let's go appease the troops before I take you home," Sam said with a chuckle. They got up, checked over each other for signs of 'evidence' of their activities, made sure their hair and clothes were in order and then left to the living room.

-ooo-

When Sam got back from taking Rory home, his dad was the only one up.

"Hey Sam, going to bed?" Mr. Evans asked, relaxing in his armchair.

"Yeah. I'm tired. Takes a lot of energy playing video games and all," his son joked.

Mr. Evans sat up straight and waved his finger, summoning Sam to sit in front of him. "Son, I know this is kind of… weird for us both, but I wanted to talk about something with you."

Sam sat down and swallowed, wondering if he was in trouble, or if his father had reconsidered his opinions on having a bisexual son. "What did I do?"

His father laughed. "Nothing, relax. We just need to have, you know, 'the talk.'"

"Didn't we already do that? Back when I started dating girls?"

"That was the 'don't get a girl knocked up' talk. This is the 'be careful with boys, too' talk." Sam nodded, seeing exactly where this was going.

"I know you're not a dumb kid, Sam. And I know you aren't innocent either. I was your age, with raging hormones and all that crap. I know you've done stuff with girls plenty of times, but I want to be clear about something with you."

Sam's eyes went wide.  _He is not really going to go there is he?_

"I just want you to remember that you need to, you know, be safe, even with a guy."

_Yep, he went there._

"I don't know the specifics of what you boys actually do, I don't  _want_  to know the specifics, but I know that anytime you're getting that kind of close, there's risks. You don't have to worry about babies, but you still gotta worry about your health."

Sam had a look on his face that read discomfort. "It's okay dad, I know that. But thanks, good to know you care enough."

"Yeah, I do. So does your mother, but I think she felt it would be better if I had this conversation with you rather than her."

"Thanks. I'm gonna go to bed now because this passed awkward about five minutes ago," Sam said, standing up.

"Hey, stop right there, son," Mr. Evans said. "I did all that yakking for you, the least I can get is a hug." Sam smiled and gave his father a hug. He sometimes forgot that his father needed that physical contact just as much as his mother.

-ooo-

The next day in the locker room, Puck cornered Sam. "Alright dude, we gotta talk," he said. Sam nodded at him and inquired as to what they needed to discuss. "You know what. What's going on with you?"

"Going on with me… how?"

"You and Irish. I mean, you come back to McKinley and suddenly you're gay?" Puck asked sarcastically.

"Well, I… I guess maybe so," Sam admitted, fumbling over his words. He didn't bother to correct him that he was actually bisexual. "It just kind of happened. I hadn't planned it. I didn't come back and say 'hey, last time girls didn't work out so well, so let's try guys this time. _' I knew this conversation was going to happen eventually_.

Puck put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Look dude, we're still friends. I don't care who you screw, but I just don't understand. It was Santana wasn't it? She turned into a lesbian and somehow you caught the bug when you went out with her, right?" he joked.

"I gotta admit I was surprised about that. She was so aggressive with guys. We had sex all the time, and she loved it. I guess if she can flip sides like that, then maybe it can happen to me, too," Sam reflected. "Weird, isn't it?"

"I just never would have imagined, Sam Evans, taking it up the-"

"Hold up, don't even! I am not doing that!" Sam interrupted. "We're taking it slow, and I don't think that kind of thing is even in the cards." Secretly, though, Sam was anxious to try the next step with Rory – but he would never admit that to anyone else but him.

Puck looked relieved. "Cool, man. Good luck with that and all. I mean, Irish is a cool kid, so you seem suited for each other, or whatever you're supposed to say."

Sam gave him a half-hug. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Puck paused a moment as if thinking deep. "Just uh… don't be looking at my junk in the showers, a'ight?"

"Seriously?" Sam laughed. "You're not my type." He winked playfully and gave him a shove. "Don't get a big head, so far Rory is the only guy I'm attracted to. I think you're safe."

Again a look of relief from Puck as he went to get ready for class. The very idea of looking at Puck naked in the shower was enough to make Sam shiver. Definitely not a sight he cared to see, even though he had on more than one occasion; that happened when you were in the locker room for practices, gym class, and workouts.

As far as he was concerned, Rory was the only guy that appealed to him and that was fine by him. Even the guys in the movies Blaine gave him were only mildly attractive to him. No matter how much he watched them (which was often, since he wanted to mentally prepare himself for the big moment) the guys just weren't Rory.

-ooo-

"Hey, can I talk to you a minute?" Blaine asked Rory in between classes. "I wanted to give you a formal apology, for everything that happened. I should have said it sooner, but I never gave  _you_  an apology. I guess we were all so concerned about Sam's side of things, we never thought about yours."

Rory smiled. "It's nice of you to say that, but I'm not worried about it too much."

"Well I wanted to make sure you knew how sorry I am. It wasn't my intention to 'out' you or make things more difficult than they already are. If I can do anything to help – answer questions or whatever, don't hesitate to ask," Blaine offered.

"Oh my head is full of questions! I just don't know how much of that you can answer," Rory replied with a chuckle. "This is my first actual relationship you know. I never even kissed a girl before, and now, I'm kissing a man. If I was clueless then, I am surely clueless now."

"I've been through the awkward stages already – the first kiss, the intimacy, the sex, all of it. I'm no expert, but I know a thing or two. Maybe I can do what I did for Sam. I'll bring you a DVD with some educational material on it for you to watch; maybe it will answer some of your questions."

"Educational material? You mean like an instruction video?"

Blaine held back an outburst of laughter. The poor kid often didn't get some sarcasm, sayings, or other things that might not be prevalent in Ireland. "No, not really. It's called porn. Sex movies. Most guys have them of some kind, or have seen them."

"I see. Well maybe that will be helpful. Thanks," Rory replied, blushing.

"You know something that is more important than any kiss, any sex act, anything else? Communication. If you and Sam can't talk to each other, you'll never make it. As long as you can talk about something, you'll be just fine. Sam's a good guy, you made a good choice," Blaine said.

Rory leaned over and gave Blaine a quick hug. "Thanks. You're right up there next to a fresh crop o' corn." He walked off, leaving Blaine alone to contemplate what the heck he meant by that.

-ooo-

Quinn sat alone in the courtyard, opting not to eat anything for lunch. She watched silently as across the courtyard, Rory and Sam were having lunch with Mike, Tina, Blaine, and Kurt.

She wasn't homophobic by any sense of the word, but she just could not wrap her mind around the concept of Sam Evans being gay. They had such a strong relationship – until she ruined it by cheating on him with Finn. The thing was, he had such a strong attachment to her, all but proposing marriage early on, flirting incessantly. He was a big dork, a nerd even, but for a while he had been  _her_  big dork,  _her_  nerd. But then she messed it all up because of Finn, and now she had neither one.

It was bad enough that Finn went back to Rachel, the one girl who grated on her nerves so badly. Of course, she grated everyone's nerves but Finn's, and ten to one if she wasn't putting out, she'd grate his too. At least it was a female. Seeing Sam with a guy was hard. She couldn't help but wonder if her betrayal had somehow led to his eventual switching of teams.

"You realize Quinn is over there staring at us, right?" Tina observed, trying not to let the other woman know that she had been spotted.

"Why don't you invite her over here? She's a nice girl," Rory suggested. He was about to get up when Sam stopped him, putting his hand on Rory's shoulder.

"Leave her alone. Let her stay over there," he said.

Rory looked at him quizzically. Why was he insisting on being rude to her? "Why? She looks lonely. I know how that feels."

"Quinn is a… unique individual, Rory," Tina began. "She fights for things, and if she sets her sights on Sam again, she can and will put up a fight for him. Getting her involved in anything will only encourage that."

Rory looked from person to person, looking for someone to prove her wrong.

"Tina's right. Quinn is a little crazy when it comes to getting what she wants. The last thing you need is her drama," Kurt added.

"Pot, kettle, which one are you?" Blaine asked playfully. Kurt shot him a dirty look. "I'm just kidding!"

"So I shouldn't be her friend then?" Rory asked hesitantly.

"You can be nice to her, but I wouldn't get involved with her otherwise. She might put ideas in your head or even make things up, just to get you and Sam apart. The less you know her, the better," Tina replied.

"I would take her advice. Tina's the kind of person that tries to see good in everyone, and if even she is saying to leave her alone, I would heed her warning," Mike added.

Rory thought for a moment. He really did feel sorry for her – she was obviously lonely, in need of a friend, and in need of someone to love her and someone to love, but they all knew her better than he did, and their warnings were more than enough.

"Whatever her issues are, I hope she finds someone to love who loves her too," Rory said, and he meant it. "People like that just crave acceptance and love. If she had it, she wouldn't be so sour."

"Are you sure you're only fifteen?" Mike asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Because that was the most mature thing I have heard yet, and we're all supposed to be adults by now," Mike replied. "Sam, looks like you made a good choice."

Sam beamed, his thick lips forming the beautiful grin that Rory loved. He often melted inside when Sam smiled at him, a confident and affectionate smile. "You don't have to tell me that. I know it every day." Rory blushed, not used to compliments or flattery.

"Aww, you're making him blush!" Kurt teased.

"Stop picking on him, Kurt. He's just eating it up inside," Blaine scolded playfully. "Don't you recall blushing like crazy when we started dating?"

"Even before you started dating!" Tina piped up. "Any time you even spoke of Blaine you would turn redder than a beet!"

Kurt's eyes grew furious. "Nobody asked any of you!" he barked.

"Hit a nerve?" Sam asked, grinning.

"I can't help if I get a little flushed sometimes."

Rory let his friends exchange idle banter, picking at each other in play and laughing. He simply sat there, reflecting, his mind far away from the courtyard, but back to his life in Ireland. He missed his family. His mother and father, his brother Seamus. It was expensive calling home, even with the international plan on his cell phone, so he wasn't able to call them as often as he liked.

What really made him sad, however, was the fact that he couldn't tell them about Sam. He couldn't tell them something as important as his discovery of his sexuality over the phone – it wasn't fair to them, or right.

His parents were pretty laid back, they would most likely be okay with it, but for the time being, he couldn't tell them. The most he could say was that he made a friend that he hung out with a lot that was also in glee club. They could know that his name was Sam, and that they worked on their assignments together, and he could tell a white lie and say that Sam was assigned to him as a mentor of sorts, to explain why a senior was spending so much time with a sophomore. They couldn't know that Sam was his boyfriend, that they were in a loving relationship, that Sam was the best thing to enter his life since he got to the States.

"Hey Roooorrrryyyy, Earth to Rory, come in Rory!" Tina said, waving her hand in front of his face. "Come back, space cadet."

"Huh? Oh, sorry, what did you say?" he asked as he snapped out of his thoughts.

"You okay? You were spacing out," Mike inquired.

Rory smiled at them, the smile of someone putting a mind at ease. "Oh yeah, I was just thinking about home. My family."

Tina put her arm around him and hugged him. "That must be really hard for you. Coming all the way here, being away from them for a whole school year, not being with them for the holidays."

"Rub it in, why don't you!" Kurt scolded her. Blaine put a calming hand on his, signaling him to silence.

"It's okay, I know you are just trying to help," Rory thanked her. "I just have to get through it. I can see them on a webcam for a little bit, talk on the phone, but it's not the same."

"At least he got to spend Christmas and New Years with my family," Sam announced before the Irish boy could respond.

"Totally saw that coming before it happened," Blaine whispered to Kurt. The pair exchanged grins.

"It was a blast," Sam exclaimed. "We had a whole bunch of family over, ate a big meal with turkey and all the fixin's, sang songs, played games."

"What did you tell everyone, Sam? Your parents are cool, but what about the rest of the family?" Mike asked. He could only imagine how his own family would react if he came home with the announcement of being gay. They would probably throw him out, proclaiming that he dishonored their family.

"I just told them he's my best friend, an exchange student from Ireland, and he's spending the holiday with us."

"Yeah, they don't have to know they're screwing," Kurt added sarcastically. Everyone, including Blaine, groaned.

"Really Kurt? Was that necessary?" Tina scolded him. He smirked at her and shrugged.

"We're not screwing, we're being good," Sam lied. "And now they know we're dating and everything is okay, so there's nothing to worry about." He found Rory's hand and squeezed it. "We're not ready to take  _that_  step yet."

"Mhmm, yeah okay," Kurt winked.

Tired of the display of affections, Kurt announced his need to visit the library. Blaine, the loyal boyfriend, got up and went with him. As soon as they were out of earshot, Tina decided to express something that had been on her mind.

"I think it's great that you two are so open about your relationship. It shows people that there are so many different kinds of gay people," she said.

"I agree. You are completely opposite of those two. Especially Kurt. People look at you, Sam, one of the jocks, the tough guys, and see that not everyone who is gay is flamboyant and effeminate like Kurt and Blaine," Mike added.

Sam grinned at the idea of being polar opposites of the only other gay teens in the school. "I don't know if I would call Blaine effeminate though. He's definitely manlier than Kurt."

"No offense to anyone, but most of the girls in glee are manlier than Kurt," Rory observed. The other three looked at him, surprised. "Was that the wrong thing to say?"

All three of them started laughing. "Oh no! That was hilarious, it's just unusual for you to talk about someone," Tina verified.

"Oh okay. Well, tis true, right? I mean, he is very lady-like," Rory added.

"I like this kid," Mike chuckled. "He tells it like it is."

Sam looked down at his watch. "Oh shit, we better get moving or we'll be late!" the four of them got up and hurried off in different directions. As Rory passed by the various tables, he noticed Quinn still sitting by herself. He gave her a nod and a smile as they noticed each other and she gave him a polite wave that had little enthusiasm.

_If only I could get him away from that kid… or hell, if only I could get that kid alone, get him to see reality. Sam's not gay, he's just confused. I'll get him back one way or another. We had such a strong love before, we can have it again. He will totally make the perfect father, too._


	8. Episode 8: And the World Came Crashing Down, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes:Keep the reviews coming, they make me smile :) Thank you all for your support and reading!_

**Recap:**  New Directions took turns presenting their ballads, which was pretty emotional for some, but not like Tina last year who cried until she hyperventilated. Quinn is still in denial but everyone else seems supportive or ambivalent, including Sam's dad who had 'the talk' with him and also decided to go on vacation and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 8: And the World Came Crashing Down, Part 1**

**Monday**

Azimio Adams had been off the football team for over a month, and every time he had to miss a practice, his temper flared. Originally he had wanted to beat the hell out of both Sam Evans and Rory Flanagan for getting him kicked off, but one of the few times in his life he made the intelligent decision to lay low, hoping perhaps Coach Beiste would have a change of heart.

No such luck. "Come on, coach, you need me!" Azimio pleaded.

Coach Beiste shook her head. "Forget it, Adams. You screwed up. I don't need guys like you on my team - guys who think they're better than everyone else, go around picking on people for stupid reasons."

"But coach, that wasn't a stupid reason! If they just acted normal, nobody would care," Azimio argued.

"And what makes them not normal, Adams?"

Azimio scoffed at her. "That little pixie boy done turned Evans queer! Queers aren't normal! They go around spreading fairy dust and turning everyone else into queers, looking at our junk in the locker room and mess!"

Beiste rolled her eyes. "Really, Adams? What century are you from? This is 2012, get over it."

"So you're just gonna let those queers get rid of your best players? Because they go around spreading that crap in our faces?"

"You're full of it, Adams! You can kiss any chance you have of getting on any team goodbye! You won't even be eligible for synchronized swimming or underwater basket weaving!"

Azimio's mouth dropped. "You-you can't do that coach! A sports scholarship is the only way I'm gonna get into college. Figgins won't let you get away with that."

The coach smirked at him. "Oh yeah? Go ask him, see where it gets you. Now get the hell out of my office!"

The now former jock slammed the chair into her desk, turned around the threw the door open. Before it closed all the way, the coach could hear him muttering, "Fucking dyke!"

 _The joke's on you, Adams. I'm far from a lesbian, and Figgins already stated that if we had so much as a shove from you in the halls, your sports career here was through,_ she thought to herself. She chuckled, sat back down in her chair, and went back to her paperwork.

-ooo-

"You know, Azimio has been awful quiet since he got kicked off the team. It makes me kind of nervous," Rachel confided to Finn at lunch.

Finn nodded. It had occurred to him that for someone with a temper, he sure did lay low after that. Something had to be up, but what? It wasn't like the boy was smart enough to come up with an elaborate revenge plot.

"I think we should warn Sam, you know, make sure he knows to be on the lookout. He might have forgotten," she mentioned.

"I'm pretty sure Sam has it covered. I thought you didn't approve of them anyway?" Finn replied.

Rachel pursed her lips. "I just think Rory is too young for him, but we made up," she stated. "Just because I don't approve of the age gap doesn't mean I want anything to happen either. We're friends again, afterall."

Finn shrugged. "Good. I hated the tension. They're both good guys." He chuckled randomly a few minutes later.

"What's so funny?" Rachel asked.

"Nothing. Just seems like everyone is coming together again, like it should be. Friends, like when glee club started," Finn answered with a smile.

-ooo-

Sam saw Rachel approaching him, walking swiftly and purposefully.  _Oh crap, what's going on now?_

"Hey Rachel, what's up?" he asked cordially.

Rachel put her hands on her hips in the same manner she had when lecturing him about Rory's age. "I just wanted to warn you," she started, changing her stance to one of secrecy. "Don't forget you made an enemy of Azimio. He's been quiet, but I don't think you're out of danger yet. Keep your eyes peeled."

"Calm down, I think it'll be alright. He's probably sucking up to Coach Beiste, trying to get back on the team. No way should would do that if she catches him harassing us again," Sam replied. "I gotta get to class, but thanks."

"Sam? Just be careful. I don't want anything to happen to either one of you," she added.

"Thanks. We'll be okay though."

-ooo-

**Wednesday**

Rory sat in English class, bored out of his mind. The teacher was reviewing  _Tale of Two Cities_ , a book he had read ages ago back in Ireland. It was dull then, and it was dull now.

He tapped his feet to an imaginary beat in his head, doodling on his notebook as the teacher droned on and on. He was restless, he needed to get up and do something, anything.

Rory raised his hand and asked for the hall pass to the bathroom. That gave him a few minutes to at least get up and walk around a little.

 _Let's see, Sam should be in history about now. That's not too far._  Walking down the hall, then turning left and then right, he stood next to the door of the history classroom. There really wasn't a reason to be there - it wasn't like he could take him out of class.

The teenager walked past the door, looking through the window to see if he could spot his blonde headed boyfriend.

 _Aha! There he is._  Rory stood there a moment until Sam happened to look up. When he did, he smiled at him and nodded his head, urging him to leave class for a minute.

Rory waited patiently as Sam got the pass and came out to the hall.

"Hey, what are you doing out of class?" Sam whispered, the pair of them heading toward the bathroom.

"I was bored and couldn't stop shaking my feet. I needed to get up."

Sam shrugged. "Okay, fair enough." Looking around to see if they were being watched, he spied the door to the janitor's closet. He grabbed Rory's hand and yanked him inside, closing the door behind them.

"What are we doing in here?" Rory asked as Sam fumbled for the light switch. It wasn't the most comfortable of places, the closet home to mops, brooms, towers of toilet paper and paper towels and other miscellaneous items. The only fixture was a sink.

Sam didn't speak, but grabbed Rory by the hips and pushed him up so that he was sitting on the thankfully dry sink. He stood between Rory's spread legs and began kissing him passionately, almost desperately.

Rory slid his hands up Sam's t-shirt, lifting it up and rubbing his abs.  _Oh god, his stomach feels so tight and firm. Abs of steel they call it on TV. My god I wish I had a body like his._

Sam, in turn, had his own hands on Rory's ass, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs to cup his bubble butt as he teetered on the edge of the sink.

As much as it pained him, Rory pulled out his hand and glanced at his watch - the one Sam had given him for Christmas. "Sam, it's been too long. We better get back or else we might get in trouble."

"Just one more second," Sam replied, latching his mouth back on his young boyfriend's, squeezing his butt until it hurt.

Rory hopped down from the sink, forcing Sam to back off. "Okay, we better go before we get caught."

Sam frowned. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for the visit." Both boys smiled at each other, shared one last peck, and snuck back out of the closet one at a time. By the time Rory came out, Sam was already halfway down the hall, going toward history class.

 _That boy is so damn hot._ Sam thought. He had gotten so worked up over their little closet make out session, his groin was throbbing. He looked down to make sure it wasn't noticable, but his t-shirt was long enough to hide any signs of arousal.

_I wish we had longer, I would have done so much more with him. Oh well, it'll have to wait._

Rory on the other hand was back in class again, tapping his feet to the invisible beat again.  _I can't believe I did that. I never used to do things like that, sneaking out of class and stuff._

He licked his lips, tasting Sam's chapstick.  _Mmm, cherry. Thank god for flavored lip balm. I can taste him the rest of the afternoon. I wonder why he changed from the plain kind though._

-ooo-

_Fucking fags,_ Azimio thought to himself. They thought nobody saw them sneak into the janitor's closet, but he had turned the corner at the very last second, seeing the blonde and his lover ducking away.

_Always rubbing it in everyone's faces. Sick, man. Fucking sick. It's those faggot's fault I got fucked over by the Beiste. I bet they think they're safe but nobody fucks with Azimio Adams. Nobody._

-ooo-

**Thursday**

"Lookie here, some green for the scottie," Azimio shouted as he slammed Rory up against his locker for the third time that day. This time, he clutched a green slushie in his hand.

"I am not Scottish!" Rory shouted back.  _These guys wouldn't know an African from an Asian._

"Don't get smart with me, punk," Azimio retorted. He then raised the slushie over Rory's head and as expected, a green torrent of icy goodness was on his head, dripping down over and under his shirt.

"There. Now you look like a leper kahn," Azimio laughed, mispronouncing the term as two distinct words. He shoved him against the locker one more time before walking off with his jock buddies, all of them convulsing with laughter.

Rory sighed, once again covered in slushie.  _Why don't they get rid of that stupid machine?_ He knelt down to pick up his now wet books. He wiped them against his pants and threw them back in the locker, then stormed off to the bathroom.

"I am so sick of this shit!" Rory declared to himself in the mirror. He had the warm water turned on in the sink, using paper towels to remove the slush from his hair and face.

Angry, he threw one of the soiled rags at the mirror, watching it slowly slide down, leaving a sticky trail. "What the hell did I ever do to those jerks? I never did anything to them! He got himself kicked off the team for messing with me and it's  _my_  fault."

He continued his furious tirade until he heard the toilet flush. In the mirror he saw Artie wheel himself out of the handicap stall.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to hear all that," Rory apologized, embarassed.

"It's okay, I understand. You haven't gotten used to the slushies yet. After a while, you get over it," Artie said, a lame attempt at comfort.

"Do they do that to everybody they don't like, or just kids in glee club?"

Artie shrugged. "Most of the time just glee kids. On a rare occasion they throw them at a nerd or two, but not much."

Rory pulled off his shirt and rang it out in the sink, huffing. "You have some dripping down your back. Give me a paper towel and bend down, I'll get it for you."

Artie helped him finish cleaning up, then made the suggestion that he keep an extra pair of clothes - or at least a shirt - in his locker for just such occasions.

"Why doesn't the principal do anything about it?"

Artie shrugged again. "Nobody knows. Maybe because he never sees them actually doing it. Maybe he likes slushies too much to get rid of the machine. It's one of those mysteries like on _The Twilight Zone._ "

"We better get going to class. Thanks for the help. See you in glee club," Rory said, putting his still damp shirt back on. As Artie wheeled out, he stared at himself in the mirror again.

 _How am I going to get him to stop? I just want to be left alone, that's all!_  His eyes started to turn red and water up from frustration, but he forced himself to hold it back.  _I'm not a crybaby. Sam would think I was childish if he saw me cry because of that._

-ooo-

"I see you dried off, pixie boy," Azimio announced, holding Rory in his usual position against his locker. It was the last period of the day, and as he was getting his books out for math, Azimio took him by surprise.

"Leave me alone, Azimio," Rory demanded. "I never did anything to you, so just stop it!"

The bulkier boy pushed him up against the metal cabinet harder. "Bullshit! You got me thrown off the team!" he growled.

"You did that to yourself! You're the one who started it and got caught by Coach Beiste!" Rory argued. His anger had built up over the day and was making him slightly reckless in his attitude.

"If you just acted normal like everybody else I wouldn't have had to fuck with you, kid. You brought it all on yourself, I'm just maintaining order. That queer accent, gay clothes, turning our old QB into a buttpirate? Yeah, sounds like  _you_  brought down the house on your own head."

Azimio held his fist in front of Rory's head, pulling back, ready to punch him right in the nose. He was about to thrust forward when the mighty hand of Sue Sylvester grabbed his wrist.

"I don't think so, Azimio," Sue stated rather calmly. "You know I don't like these glee kids as much as the next person but I can't allow this kind of violence in our school."  _Unless I'm the one causing it,_  she added in her head.

The big hulk wrenched his wrist from her grip and regained his composure. "Lay off and get to class," she said. With that, she turned to leave when Azimio had to cross the line one last time.

"I'm going to fucking kill you if it's the last thing I do, you scottish fag," he hissed at Rory with such venom that it sent shivers down his spine.

Sue heard the threat and turned on her heel. "Hold it, mister. Did I just hear a threat that wasn't coming from me?" she questioned. Azimio was caught offguard, not aware that he had been overheard.

"It's just a figure of speech, Coach Sylvester. I don't really mean I'm gonna do anything to him," Azimio defended.

Sue scoffed at him. "You're more full of crap than a toilet after my two PM. My body acts like clockwork, and I can tell you, you don't wanna be that bowl."

Everyone in the hallway made a face of disgust. It was one of Sue's less amusing statements.

"Come on, mister, we're going to Principal Figgins. You, too," she added, pointing at Rory.

Rory held up his hands. "Please, Coach Sylvester, I don't want any trouble."

"Looks like trouble found you, Lucky. Quit lolly gagging and let's go." She pointed ahead of them, guiding them to the principal's office. Azimio sauntered down the hall, almost as if he was full of pride, while Rory refused to look over and see what he was doing for fear that Azimio might make a move.

-ooo-

Rory sat in the waiting area, tapping his feet nervously, wringing his hands, and shaking. He was terrified. If Azimio got into more trouble that he attributed to him, he was definitely in for more torment.

Sam had already heard through the grapevine that there had been an incident, but nobody could give him an accurate description of what actually went down. One kid claimed he was held at knifepoint, another claimed Rory had tried to kiss the bigger guy. Anyone with a brain would know the latter was a complete fabrication.

He went to the principal's office but the secretary wouldn't let him in. Rory was facing away from the window so he couldn't see him.  _Damn! Now what? Mr. Schue!_

Sam ran to the Spanish room but Mr. Schuester was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the choir room either. As a last resort he decided to try the guidance room.

Sam knocked on Miss. Pilsbury's door frantically. She called him in in her cheerful high pitched voice. "Hello Sam, what can I do for you?"

He was breathing heavily, having run from one end of the school to the other and back. "Rory... He's in the office."

Emma looked confused. "In what office?"

"Figgins' office," he replied. "With Azimio"

"Oh my. I hope there wasn't a fight. I shouldn't say this but that Azimio Adams sure can be a troublemaker."

Sam started to settle down a little bit. Just the sound of her calm and controlled voice was enough to put him slightly at ease. "They won't let me into the office to see if he's okay."

"No, I suppose they wouldn't since it doesn't involve you. It's generally school policy not to tell other students," she said.

"Miss. Pilsbury, can you, please, go in there, see if he's okay? He's in the waiting room. Just make sure he's okay, and tell him I'll be waiting for him as soon as class lets out."

Emma sat there a moment, contemplating in her head. It wasn't necessarily common for her to do such a thing, but then again, this wasn't an every day situation.

"Please, Miss. Pilsbury?" he begged. She smiled at him.

"I'll go see how he is. Wait here for me, I'll be just a minute," she said.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he repeated as she got up to leave the office. She smiled and went on down the hallway.

Nervous, Sam sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk, fidgeting like crazy. After waiting for ten minutes that seemed like an hour, he got up and started to leave the office when he bumped into Miss. Pilsbury as she was returning to report.

"Sit down, Sam," she said calmly. She sat behind her desk, looking at the fretting boy. "He's fine. A little shaken up, but he's fine."

Sam let out a deep breath. "Oh thank god. Was he hurt at all?"

She shook her head. "No, aside from being thrown into the lockers. Coach Sylvester stopped Azimio from hitting him."

"So she can do some good," Sam joked, feeling relieved. "What's going to happen now?"

Emma stared at her desk, throwing her options back and forth. "Sam, I told you, I'm not supposed to…" She stopped mid sentence. "I suppose I… Oh this is incredibly unprofessional of me, but Wi- I mean Mr. Schuester, would bend the rules a little here too. Azimio will be suspended while his record goes under review."

"Under review? What's that mean?" he asked.

"That means, Sam, that he could possibly be expelled. You understand this is incredibly classified information? Only you and Rory know about this. I trust that you will keep it to yourselves." Emma affirmed.

"Yes, ma'am. Understood. Thank you. I owe you."

Emma offered him a comforting smile. "He was asking for you."

"He was?"

"Yes. Brittany's parents are coming to pick him up since school is going to be dismissed in less than a half hour."

"So I can't see him?" Sam's smile faded.

A mischievous grin fell across Miss. Pilsbury's face. "Principal Figgins asked if I would escort him to his locker to retrieve his textbooks. I suppose if we happened to run into you in the hall, there'd be no objection to speaking with him."

Sam's face lit back up. "Miss. Pilsbury, you're the best! I'd hug you, but I know you're kind of funny about that." Instead, he cleaned his hands quickly with the hand sanitizer on her desk, and held his hand out, shaking hers.

"Sam?" she called as he was leaving the office. He turned to look back at her. "Come by his locker in five minutes. You might happen to run into him there."

"Yes, ma'am!" Sam exclaimed, then ran off down the hall.

-ooo-

"Really ma'am, you don't have to take me, I can go to my locker on my own," Rory protested at first. Emma said nothing until they left the office.

"I think it's a really good idea if you just come with me. You never know what you might find at your locker," she said, grinning to herself.

A little perplexed, he followed the guidance counselor. When they turned the corner, he saw what she meant. Sam was standing there waiting for him. He took a sudden dash, jumping into his arms.

"Oh god, Rory I was so worried. There was so much crap going around school, I had no idea what happened!"

Rory didn't want to let go, but he knew Brittany's parents were on their way. Miss. Pilsbury just stood there watching the two boys, the biggest smile on her face as she thought about the fact that they must have felt about each other the way she and Will felt about each other.

-ooo-

**Friday**

"Did you pack for the week?" Sam asked excitedly at least twice before lunch. They had a glee club meeting right after school, but other than that, they were home free for the weekend.

"What did you tell Brit's parents?"

"The truth. Sort of. I just said I was staying with a friend for the week so we could work on our science project the entire time," Rory explained.

"They actually bought that?"

"Bought what? They didn't give me any money, they just said 'okay.'"

Sam put his arm around his boyfriend and smiled. "You never cease to amuse me. It's an expression. It means uh… it means they believed you, even though it was a lame story."

Rory scoffed. "I thought it was pretty good. It helped that they aren't particularly brighter than Brittany herself."

"Too bad for them they won't know what kind of science we'll be working on, huh?" Sam winked at him. "Anatomy, sex education, the works."

Rory blushed and gulped. "Sex education?"

"Yeah, you know, fooling around. Like we usually do. Maybe even a little more."

Rory's eyes widened.  _A little more? What does he mean by that?_

"Calm down, kiddo. We'll talk about that later."

Rory suddenly changed the subject. "You know I got called to the Principal's office today?"

Sam paused in his steps. "Wait, what?"

"Yes, Principal Figgins wanted to speak with me. It seems it didn't take long for them to review Azimio's records. I guess he has a long history and this was the last chance for him." Rory looked up at Sam and nodded his head. "He's been expelled."

Sam's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected Figgins to actually do that. He assumed he was just blowing smoke to put some fear in the boy's britches, but apparently he was serious.

Neither boy knew about the heated discussion that went on in the office after school the day before. Both coaches, Emma, Will, and even the school nurse were in Figgins' office, declaring their experiences with Azimio over the course of his high school career.

Azimio had been bullying students for ages. His permanent record was littered with detentions for bullying over the years even as far back as elementary school. The nurse had knowledge of several kids who had come to her office complaining of aches and pains from being shoved into lockers.

And then there was Beiste and Sue. The two of them argued the most, Beiste citing the fight in the hallway. She even mentioned that Sam Evans' eye was finally healing up, and that Azimio had started the fight.

Sue recounted her entire incident with him from the day before, even quoting his threat. There were a lot of things Sue Sylvester was guilty of – most of it her own bullying and scheming, but something she wouldn't tolerate was a death threat against another student. Even Sue had standards. She had originally expelled Dave Karofsky for the same thing, but was overturned.

After two hours of arguing and debating, Figgins finally agreed that Azimio should be expelled, but under the condition that he be given a recommendation to a school for problem students so that he could at least finish his education, no longer a threat to anyone at McKinley.

"Principal Figgins said the only reason he was telling me at all was because he wanted me to be aware that Azimio shouldn't be anywhere on the property, and that if I saw him, to run away and report it immediately." Rory told him.

"Good. That asshole has been making people's lives miserable for too long," Sam declared. Rory smiled and reached up, gently rubbing Sam's eye.

"It looks so much better. Still a little tender?"

"Yeah, a little. It was worth it, though. Anything to keep my man safe," Sam said, grinning. Rory smiled back at him, relishing the fact that Sam referred to him as a man and not a kid, or teenager, or guy. Somehow being called a man made him feel… important.

-ooo-

"Did you hear? Azimio Adams got expelled!" Tina said right before the glee meeting started.

"You're kidding! For what?" Finn asked.

"I heard it was for beating up students," Rachel replied. "If you ask me, it's about time he got some sort of punishment for all the harassment he's been doing to people all these years."

Finn lookined grim. "It's kind of sad, though." Everyone looked at him like he was insane. "I mean, his school career is over. He'll never get into college now. He's ruined his life by being a prick."

"He had it coming," Tina agreed with Rachel. "I wonder if that means the slushies will stop."

Mike shrugged. "I doubt it. It's not like he was the only one throwing them."

Quinn came down from the upper row of chairs, sitting down with the small group. "You know what I heard?" Everyone was locked onto her, eagerly awaiting her response. "I heard that he got expelled for beating up Rory Flanagan."

"Why would anyone want to beat up Rory? He's so nice!" Tina objected.

"Do you even know Azimio? He never needed a reason to harass anyone, he just did it," Finn countered.

Quinn nodded her head with an almost evil grin on her face. "Yep. He was angry that he turned Sam gay, and if he beat the crap out of him, he'd leave and Sam would return to normal and come back to the football team."

"Since when is football  _that_  important?" Tina inquired. She knew it was a major thing at McKinley, but she never thought that Sam had  _that_  much of an impact.

"Think about it. We're not doing that great this year, but we did really well when Sam was on the team. Sam, Karofsky, Finn, and Azimio were the big hitters. Karofsky's gone, so losing Sam too would put us two behind," Mike explained. "There's no way Azimio would let a gay guy on the team though."

"You know Sam isn't gay anyway," Quinn added. Again the attention was on her. "He told me the other day. He's just using Rory for..." she paused for effect. "for oral sex. But he isn't gay."

Tina stood up, angry. "That's an awful thing to say, Quinn! Awful!"

"Yeah, that's a really crappy thing to say," Mike added, giving her a disapproving look.

Quinn got up from her seat. "You can stay in denial all you want, but Sam's straight as an arrow. He just knows he can get his-"

"Alright, that's enough, Quinn!" Rachel interrupted. "You're just jealous because he doesn't want to get back with you!"

"Whatever gets you through the night," Quinn replied, turning away and going back to her seat next to Puck on the upper row.

Mike, Tina, Rachel, and Finn all turned around to glare at her. "What's that all about?" Puck asked her.

"Oh nothing. Just stirring the pot," she replied.  _I'm going to get that boy back, no matter what_.

"Did he really say that about Irish?" Puck inquired, suspicious.

Quinn smirked. "Of course not. But you know how the gossip works. The seed's been planted. Once Rory hears there is even a question, it will start to tear at their little 'relationship' and they'll break up, leaving Sam to me."

"Man, you are evil, Quinn. That's just fucked up, even for you."

"You know me, Puck. I set my eyes on something and I won't stop until I have it." She grinned mischeivously. "Sam Evans is going to be mine again before the end of the year, you wait and see."

-ooo-

It didn't take long before word got back to Sam that Quinn had started a little rumor within the glee club regarding his intentions with his new boyfriend.

"You don't have to worry, Sam. We know she's making it up," Mike assured him.

"Don't do anything rash. You'll only get into trouble," Tina urged as Sam walked purposefully over to Quinn.

"What are you doing, Quinn?" he asked her pointedly. "What's your angle here?"

Quinn smirked. "I told you, you're not gay. You just need a little help seeing that." Sam's eyes flared red.

"Get over it, Quinn. You have no chance with me, ever again," he spat. "You know what hurts the most though?"

"Hmm?"

"I wanted to be friends again. All I wanted was for you to accept mine and Rory's relationship and to be friends, but you went and started talking crap. You just can't get it through your head, can you?"

Quinn tensed and grit her teeth. "We had such a strong love before. What ever happened to that?"

"You cheated on me, remember?"

Quinn sat there a moment, thoughtful, as if she just suddenly remembered that she had done that. "Sam, I..." She started to tear up.  _What am I doing? I did cheat on him, and now I want him back, but look what I'm doing to us._

"You cheated on me. Once a cheater, always a cheater. I tried to stay friends with you, Quinn, but I won't deal with this kind of crap."

The tears began to fall at that point. She tried to steel herself but was failing. "I just... oh god Sam, I'm so messed up. I don't..."

"You're right. You are messed up. The thing is, Quinn, I know you have good inside there, too. Our relationship wasn't all bad, there was still something there. You just need to find that woman inside you again and grow up." Sam's tone had gone from one of anger, to simply a stern scolding.

"I... Sam, I'm... I'm so sorry!" she cried.

"I feel sorry for you, Quinn. You need help. Someone to give you a little guidance. I'm done with you, but that doesn't mean I don't care at all. Get yourself some help, get yourself straight, and then you can find love."

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled again.

"I'm done. But if I see you walking down the hall, happy with yourself, I'll be happy for you." Having said his piece, Sam walked away, leaving Quinn tearful in Puck's arms.

Puck would have come to her defense had he not actually agreed with Sam - that she was messed up and needed help, including moving on and not interfereing with their relationship. Between her short lived plot to ruin that, and her attempt at getting baby Beth back through deception and selfishness, she had really gone downhill. This wasn't the Quinn he used to know.

-ooo-

**Saturday**

Rory rolled over in the bed, expecting to feel Sam laying there next to him, but instead there was just pillows and sheets.  _Where is he?_  He got up, traipsed to the bathroom, then stepped out into the hall.  _Smells like something is cooking._

Sure enough, Sam was standing in the kitchen in his boxers and a tank top, something on the stove and something else in the oven.

"Good morning sleepy head," he teased. "Nice hair."

"Huh? Oh," Rory had just noticed he had a serious case of bed hair. "What are you making?"

Sam smiled. "A typical country breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy."

"It smells good. We never have breakfast at Brittany's. I usually just grab a pastry or piece of fruit."

Sam turned up his nose. "None of that here, buddy. Well, during the week it's mostly cereal or fruit, but on the weekends, mom has a whole smorgasboard going on in here."

"She has a what in here?"

Sam laughed. "There's just a lot to eat, put it that way. It doesn't exactly go with my diet, but I tend to splurge on the weekend. I just do a little extra exercising to make up for it."

"This looks great. Need any help?"

"Nope. Have a seat at the table and I'll fix you right up. Do you want orange juice, or milk?"

Rory chose some O.J. and sat down at the table, which already had utensils and napkins sitting there. Sam brought him his drink and then in a couple of minutes came back with two huge plates of food.

"One order of scrambled eggs, greasy sausage and bacon, and biscuits drowned in gravy, all for you!" he teased, setting down the plates. "Good old fashioned country breakfast, right here in Ohio."

Rory picked up his fork and started to taste the food, making noises of satisfaction with each bite. "Oh my god, Sam, this is all so delicious!"

Sam smiled and kept eating his own meal. He had given himself slightly smaller portions so that he wasn't splurging too much, but Rory had a heaping plateful.

"Slow down, don't choke!" Sam teased as Rory shoved forkful after forkful into his mouth.

"Sorry, it's just so good. Thank you so much for making it!" Rory exclaimed, forgetting his manners and talking with his mouth full.

"So what do you want to do today? It's kind of cold out, so there isn't much to do outside unless you wanna freeze." Aside from swimming or playing video games or watching movies, there wasn't much to do at the house.

Rory thought for a moment while he continued to shovel food in his mouth. "I kinda want to go ice skating. And then maybe after that we can visit the mall for a little bit. Is that okay?"

"Sure thing. I gotta warn you though, I never ice skated before so I might fall on my ass a lot," Sam replied. He had already finished his plate of food and was waiting patiently for Rory to finish his.

After breakfast, they needed to shower and get ready to go out for the day. Rory stripped down and got in the large shower, the bathroom quickly filling with steam. He was washing his hair when Sam came in and snuck into the shower with him. He reached up and took over lathering the boy's hair.

After washing the shampoo out of his hair, Sam turned him around and kissed him. While they were kissing, Rory reached up and started to massage Sam's head with a handful of soap, cleaning his hair.

Surprisingly enough, they kept things rather tame, only soaping each other up and then rinsing, not getting sexual at all. "We'll save the fun for later," Sam promised, whispering seductively in Rory's ear before they got out to dry.

-ooo-

Ice skating was a very amusing affair. Rory had ice skated several times before, but was by no means a pro, but compared to Sam he may as well have been a olympian. The moment Sam's feet hit the ice, he started to wobble and fall, grabbing the wall for support.

After an hour or so of Rory dancing around on the ice and Sam struggling to stay upright and run laps, they retired for some lunch at the mall before walking around, window shopping. They did buy a DVD each but otherwise just let their eyes drool at the various items they passed by.

Sam suddenly grabbed Rory and pulled him into the nearest store, which happened to be a Victoria's Secret. "What are we doing in a women's underwear shop, Sam? You don't need to tell me something, do you?"

"Shh, no, I just saw Azimio with a few other guys down near the sports store."

Rory sighed. "Oh great. The last person I wanted to see. How are we going to leave without him seeing us?"

"We just walk out, turn right and walk fast until we get to the exit. With luck, he won't notice us."

"Good afternoon, gentlemen, is something wrong?" a pretty female clerk asked, walking up to them. "You seem upset."

Sam smiled at her - his boyish, innocent smile that melted most girls' hearts, as well as Rory's. "We just saw someone down the hall that is kind of a bully, and we don't want any trouble. We just want to leave without him seeing us."

The woman looked concerned. "There has been a lot of trouble going on with that sort of thing lately. Apparently there is a few groups of bullies hanging around the mall. I guess they have nowhere else to go since it's so cold."

"I guess so. We just got one of them expelled for violence. Kinda worried he might try something with my friend here, so we're trying to avoid him," Sam explained.

"Oh dear. That's serious. Well, look, we have an employee exit in the back. I can sneak you back there and let you out, but you might have to walk a little further to your car," she offered.

"That would be awesome," Sam replied. The woman led them to the back of the store and through a purple painted door with an 'Employee's Only' sign on it. They were in a store room, but there was also another door outside.

"You guys stay safe, okay?" the woman said, unlatching the lock.

Rory grinned at her. "Thank you, Christie," he said, reading her name tag. "Me name's Rory, and this here is Sam. We'll remember you for being so nice."

"Ohh an accent! Is it Irish?" she cooed. He nodded his head. "Well you two better get going," she said. As the pair walked out the door, she leaned out to say goodbye. "See you guys around, Sam, Rory!" she said, giving the younger boy a wink and a smile.

"I think she was sweet on you!" Sam teased as Rory blushed.

"She was just nice. Let's go."

_Azimio. I hadn't thought about seeing him outside of school. We can't hide from him forever. What am I gonna do if he tries anything? For all I know, he could be strapped. Nah, that's going too far. He's just a punk. He better stay away from us if he knows what's good for him. In school I gotta watch it, but out here, I can take him out if I have to._

"You okay, Sammy?" Rory asked, noticing he was not only quiet, but also a little spacey.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just keeping a look out. Let's go home. We'll cook for dinner," Sam said.

-ooo-

Rory watched as Sam took a backward flip of the diving board of the indoor pool. He smacked into the water with a loud slap and resurfaced moments later.

"That kinda hurt a little bit," Sam observed.

"That's what you get for flopping in the water face first!" Rory teased him.

"Okay smart ass, let's see you do it then. Backflip off the board." Sam challenged. He tread water, staying a safe distance away from the board, watching intently as Rory got up on the board. He did a handstand on the end of the board and then gracefully pushed off, successfully landing in the water, feet first.

"How's that?" he asked, popping back up.

Sam pretended to contemplate a score. "I guess you get an eight. I'd give you a seven but you were naked, so you get an extra point for hotness."

Rory grinned and splashed Sam in the face. "Well I guess if that's the way it works you can have a five instead of a four!"

The two boys continued to horse around in the water, then doing some laps, racing each other.

Not long after they got out and dried off, they were laying on Sam's bed, kissing passionately, hands groping everywhere.

"I wanna ask you something," Sam said, pausing their making out. Rory nodded, urging him to go on. "I want to try something with you, but only if it's okay."

"What is it?"

Sam blushed a little bit, actually embarassed at having to say it. "I want to uh..."

"Go ahead and say it, Sammy. What do you want to do?"

"I want to, you know, have sex. Like more than just sucking."

"You want to do what I talked about a while back. Making love," Rory clarified. Sam blushed a little once more.

"Yeah. I want to do that. Have actual sex like that." He waited nervously for his mate's reply.  _What if he doesn't want to do it? I hope he is ready for that kind of thing. I want to do it so bad. That's one of the things I do miss about being with a girl - getting her wet and fucking her._

Rory looked like he was in deep thought. "Would you want me to be taking it in?"

Sam nodded slowly. "If you don't want to, that's okay, we don't have to."

Rory smiled the way a small child would when they were up to something. "Okay. I want to. It looks like it hurts though... you're kind of big."

"I'll take it real slow and easy, I promise. If it hurts too much, I won't do it anymore. You'll be in charge, okay?"

Rory nodded. "Okay. Just be careful, I never had anything up there before."

Sam laughed. "Neither have I. And I've never done it before."

"You had sex with girls though. You told me you did, with Santana."

"It's a little different with a girl. Besides, I didn't love Santana. I love you, though," Sam affirmed. "It always feels different when you love someone. Santana was just sloppy kissing, doing it mainly because of the horniness. With you, there's something really  _there._ "

"You're the only kiss I ever had, but I feel something there when you kiss me. So maybe... maybe I'll feel that same something when you're inside me."

Sam ran to the bathroom and returned with a large towel that he then folded in half and set on the edge of the bed.

"I've watched those videos; I wanted to get an idea of how to do it right. It's kinda messy since you use this lube and it gets everywhere, so I put the towel down," Sam explained. "So come on over here and lay back. Put your butt on top of the towel and let your legs hang off."

Rory did as he was told, his body trembling ever so slightly. "Sorry, I'm nervous."

"Don't be nervous. I told you I won't hurt you. All you have to do is say stop and I will. I promise," Sam assured him. "Okay, I need to get hard real good, so..."

Sam didn't need to say anything else as Rory guided him over top of himself, legs spread, his half-hard cock and balls hanging over his face. He put his hands on Sam's butt and pulled down, drawing his large cock into his mouth, the organ instantly stiffening up.

Rory continued to suck on Sam's hard dick, causing the older boy to moan loudly. Sam started to thrust his hips down and into Rory's mouth, the same way he intended to soon be thrusting inside his virgin body.

"Okay you better stop," Sam warned, getting off of him. "Keep that up and we'll never get to it."

"Alright, I need to loosen you up a little bit first. Kinda like fingering a girl but gentler and with one finger," Sam noted. He pulled out a bottle of K-Y Jelly from his nightstand drawer and slathered his finger with it.

"Okay, pull your legs up so your knees are on your chest," he instructed. Rory did as instructed, lifting his legs and then hugging his knees, his rear completely vulnerable. Sam spread his legs a little bit. He traced his finger down from Rory's balls all the way down to his tight opening. He ran circles around it, getting it slick.

"Okay, are you ready? I'll go slow," Sam said. Rory nodded, gulped, and then prepared himself for the invasion.

Sam slowly slid his finger inside, all of an inch perhaps. "Okay?" Rory nodded in reply so Sam slid his finger in deeper. Rory was breathing deep, but seemed to be tolerating it fairly well.

"My finger is all the way in," he informed the younger teen. "How's it feel?"

"Kinda... odd." Sam chuckled at his answer, then wiggled his finger around a bit. "Oh my god, do that again!" he cried out as Sam hit some special place inside him that sent intense pleasure shooting through his body.

"Oh, you mean this?" Sam replied, an evil grin on his face. He poked his finger down again, rubbing the firm walnut of his prostate, causing his boyfriend to writhe around, his whole body tensing, and then relaxing.

Rory started to pant a little bit. "Wha-what did you do to me?" he asked.

"I think that's your prostate, Ror. I don't know much about science and anatomy but I know that's supposed to be like the pleasure center of the entire male body," Sam explained.

"I like it. I like it a lot."

Sam smiled at him, used his free hand to reach between Rory's legs and slowly rub on his dick. "You're absolutely sure you want to keep going?"

"Yes. I trust you."

Sam leaned down and kissed him, then returned to inserting his finger. He moved it in and out a little, then started to slowly work a second finger inside. Rory tensed at first, but with a few strokes on his cock he relaxed again, allowing entry.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Uh huh," Rory replied breathlessly.

"I'm going to try one more finger, and then we can try the real thing," Sam said. A few more slow strokes and Rory had relaxed enough for him to get three fingers inside. He paused, letting him get used to the size.

Rory reached down and stopped Sam's hand from stroking him. "Not yet. I'm getting close."

"Are you ready to try me?"

Rory took a deep breath and then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I want you to, Sam."

"I'll be careful. You tell me exactly how it's feeling, okay? If you need me to stop, I will, no questions asked." Rory nodded in response.

 _I am so lucky to have someone who cares so much about me. I'm about to do something I never imagined I would be doing, and he's the only one I trust to do it,_ Rory thought. A peaceful smile crossed his face. He let his head lay back on the bed all the way, unable to see much, but hearing the snap of the bottle of lube opening, the faint squish of the jelly, and then the cool gel coating his rear.

"Okay, here we go," Sam said. He gave himself a few good strokes as he coated his anxious cock and then placed the head right on the quivering virgin hole. He very slowly pushed, telling him to relax. In theory he should have been using a condom, but despite his father's advice, Rory was a virgin, and Sam was tested clean regularly. With that in mind, he wanted it to feel one hundred percent natural.

Rory took deep breaths and was able to let Sam get his head inside. Sam waited for him to get used to the size – it felt a lot different than fingers. Better. Sam pushed in a little more, eliciting a moan from his boyfriend.

"You okay?" he asked. Rory nodded once more, and Sam pushed in a little more. Before they knew it, he was all the way inside, right up to the base of his cock. Rory winced and moaned a little. Sam leaned over, parting the younger teen's legs a little so he could get a good, clear view of his face.

"You sure you're okay? Your eyes are –" Sam paused and used his hand to wipe a tear from the boy's eye. "I'm hurting you."

"No, please, wait. Stay right there. It hurts a little bit, but its feeling better."

Sam kept his eyes locked onto Rory's, keeping a close watch on his reactions. He pulled back just a little bit, causing Rory to moan again, but this time it was a moan of pleasure. He pushed back in, and another quiet moan.

Slowly, Sam pulled back and pushed in a little further, over and over, until he was almost pulling out all the way and then going all the way back in.

"It's feeling good now, isn't it? I can see it in your face," Sam said, pleased.

"Yeah. It feels amazing. You like it, too, don't you? You look happy."

Sam smiled, leaned down, and kissed him. "I am very happy. I'm gonna speed up a little, let me know if you need me to slow up."

Rory nodded, ready for it. Sam increased his speed by a small bit with each thrust until he had a steady rhythm going. He pulled Rory's legs up so they were resting on his shoulders. Sam reached down and started stroking his dick, precum dripping like crazy. He rubbed the head with his thumb, then stroked, then did it over again.

Rory clutched his hands on the sheets, the pleasurable sensations almost becoming too much. His breathing speeded up to match Sam's rhythm. "Go faster," he said softly.

Sam obliged him, speeding up more. "I'm getting really close," he said. His body was starting to tremble, the orgasm starting to rise.

"Go ahead. I trust you," Rory instructed. He suddenly felt his ass being assaulted as Sam sped up with a crazed speed, bringing himself over the edge. He slammed into Rory's ass several times, purging his seed deep inside of him.

Sam hadn't forgotten his young lover's pleasure, however, as he continued to stroke his cock, but much faster. With the last few powerful thrusts, the pressure against the boy's pleasure spot sent him over the edge and his whole body tensed, his cock pulsated, and his sticky cum soon covered his belly and chest.

Sam slowly pulled out, then lay back next to his boyfriend, collapsing. "Oh my god that was amazing." They were both breathing deep and almost gasping for air.

"Yeah, it was. So very amazing."

"Here, let me clean you up," Sam offered, sitting up. He took another towel from the hall closet and gently wiped the excess lube from Rory's ass, and then wiped up the cum from his body. He cleaned himself up and then laid back down.

"I'm very glad, it was you who took my virginity," Rory confessed. "You made it so good for me. Thank you." He turned on his side and cuddled up next to Sam, draping his arm over his chest.

"Well you took my virginity, too. I mean, my guy virginity anyway," Sam replied. "I don't think I could have done that with anyone else."

They both yawned, sated and tired. "Can we take a nap now?" Rory asked, miming a little kid asking permission.

"Yeah. Let's take a nap before dinner. I think we earned it," Sam replied with a laugh. They repositioned themselves on the bed so they were actually comfortable and then snuggled up with each other.

"Sam, I love you. I'm so lucky to have you," Rory said softly.

They squeezed hands as Sam whispered back to him, "I love you, too."

During their nap, Sam dreamed again, but this time, he dreamt that they were relaxing naked on a beach, the sun shining down, the waves crashing, nobody else around. Then, suddenly the sky went dark, lightning began to strike, and his eyes shot open as there was a loud bang in his ears.

He looked over at Rory, still asleep, and saw everything was fine. It was all in his head, a bad dream. When he fell back asleep, his mind was clear, the nightmare having disappeared.


	9. Episode 9: And the World Came Crashing Down, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes:This is an emotional chapter, so be prepared! The middle part of the story you will notice that the writing style changes to something a little erratic – this is intentional as you are meant to feel a sense of confusion and urgency. Please enjoy._

**Recap:**  Azimio had left everyone alone for a while, but Coach Beiste still wouldn't let him back on the team, so he got mad at started harassing Rory until Coach Sylvester caught him fighting and had him expelled. Sam's parents went on vacation leaving him home alone, which really means home with Rory. It's a new week without Azimio so everyone is hoping the harassment and slushies will stop and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 9: And the World Came Crashing Down, Part 2**

**Monday**

Sam and Rory walked past the choir room on their way to the gym. Mr. Schuester wasn't in, but they ran into him coming out of the men's room.

"Hey guys, what are you doing here? You know it's a holiday, right?" Will asked.

"Yeah, I just wanted to use the gym for a little while. Work out in peace. We don't have weights at home," Sam explained.

Mr. Schue nodded his head. "You hitting the weights too, Rory?"

"Oh no, I'm going to practice basketball on the court while he exercises," Rory explained. "Wanna play against me?"

"Oh I'd love to, Rory, but it's a workday for me. I have a lot of Spanish papers to catch up on. I'll stop by and see if you're still here when I get ready to leave, then you can show me a thing or two," Mr. Schuester said.  _I wish I could play basketball. It's been too long since I got out there._

Rory and Sam both gave their farewells and went on to the gym. The only person in there was the janitor, who was finishing up his rounds on the floor. He waved at them as they disappeared into the locker room.

They both changed into the gym clothes – Sam a muscleshirt and knee-length shorts, Rory wearing the red tee shirt with the McKinley Sports logo and his black shorts that were much shorter than Sam's.

"I've been meaning to ask you, why are your gym shorts so… short?"

Rory chuckled. "In Ireland, everyone's shorts are like this. Except in the winter when we wore sweats. We never wore those long swim shorts either. We wore trunks."

"Trunks? What's the difference?"

"Trunks. They're tight but stretchy. Shorter than these."

Sam grinned. "I might like to see you wearing those sometime!" They were alone in the locker room, so he pulled him in for a quick kiss.

"Behave yourself, Mr. Evans," Rory cautioned. "Don't start what you might not be able to finish."

"Oh, I can finish. Maybe not in here, but I can finish anything I start," Sam teased back. Rory left the locker room laughing, stopping by the equipment closet to grab a basketball. Meanwhile, Sam plugged his earphones in and started up his iPod.

-ooo-

Rory stopped bouncing the ball, hearing a strange noise.  _What is that? Maybe Mr. Schue is coming to play a game._

"Hello?" he called out. The only response was his voice echoing in the otherwise silent gym. "Is anyone else here?"

_Must be my imagination._

He went back to playing HORSE against himself until he heard the noise again.

_Okay, that is definitely something._

"Hello!" he called out again. He then heard the door slam behind him. He spun around to see the source of the noise.

"Well well well, look what we have here," came the familiar booming voice. Rory's eyes went wide, his chest feeling tight.

Without speaking, Rory started to run toward the locker room, to the safety of a closed door and more importantly, Sam.

"Where you going small fry?" came another voice as its owner stepped in his path, blocking the door to the locker room.

"A-Azimio. H-hi," Rory stuttered. "H-how goes it?"

Azimio moved fast; grabbing Rory's upper arms and shaking him.

"How goes it? How goes it? Is that all you can say?" Azimio boomed. Rory was terrified. Azimio had him in his vice-grip, another dark skinned guy he had never seen before stood in the way of the locker room, and yet a third paced before the gym doors leading back into the school.

Azimio shoved him, hard, Rory falling on his rear with a thud. Azimio started to approach as Rory managed to stand back up, only to be shoved again. This time he landed on his knee, pain shooting through his leg.

"You got me thrown off the team, you fuckin' freak," the hefty teenager declared. Rory attempted to run again, but Azimio snagged him by the arm, spinning him around and then pushed him right up against the wall.

One of the big hands was right in the middle of his chest, holding him in place. The other pulled back in a fist. He closed his eyes until he felt the explosion. Intense pain shot through his face. He thought he heard something break, but wasn't sure.

"Now this is for getting me expelled," Azimio added. He punched Rory in the stomach and let him drop to the ground on all fours. He then kicked him, sending him sprawling to the floor, his head hitting hard.

"SAM! HELP!" Rory cried out, but it was only a harsh rasp as he was breathing hard and heavy. Something hot was flowing down his face. He started to call out again, but he was being hefted to his feet by the bulky hand of Azimio before being shoved against the wall again.

Rory heard the faint click of something coming undone – the snap of a blade being turned open. His vision was blurry, his eyes full of tears of pain, his head throbbing. He only remembered two things after that; the burning pain of something sharp in his shoulder, and the loud thud of his body hitting the floor as his legs were kicked out from under him.

"You killed him, Z!" one of the voiced shouted.

"Naw, I didn't kill the little faggot. I just got him in the shoulder. He'll live, but he'll remember Azimio Adams the rest of his life."

"Let's get out of here before anyone shows up," the third voice said. No more of their conversation was heard as Rory finally lost consciousness.

-ooo-

"Rory?" Sam called out, thinking he had heard a noise as he took off his headphones. No answer. Weird. He didn't hear the sound of the basketball, either. If he had needed the bathroom, he would be in the locker room.

"Rory? You in here?"

Still silence.  _Maybe he's just taking a break._

He opened the locker room door but didn't see him. "Rory? Where are you?"

_What is that sound? It's like a hissing or something._

The next several minutes were a blur. Sam saw a heap on the floor, something that closely resembled his boyfriend. He thought he cried out his name, but he couldn't be sure. Sam's heart was pounding out of his chest.

"No no no no no no," Sam started stuttering as he closed the distance. He dropped to his knees and turned the figure on his back. It was Rory, but it didn't look like Rory. No, this person had blood on his swollen face, bruises everywhere that he could see, and his shirt was soaked with blood as well.

"Oh fuck, no," Sam hissed when he noted that the blood was coming from some wound near his shoulder. He pulled the sleeve up just enough to see some sort of puncture wound, but nothing indicating what it was from.

"Wake up! Rory, wake up!" Sam rasped, tears streaming down his face as he held the boys head up. "Wake up!" His breathing was labored, but he was still breathing and that was a good sign. Sam quickly looked around for something, but only saw a streak of blood on the wall, but nothing else.

Sam didn't want to leave him, but he needed to call for help, and his phone was in his gym bag in the locker room. "HELP! Somebody! HELP!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs. Sadly, nothing. He couldn't wait any longer; Rory needed an ambulance.

As he started to lay his head back down, he noticed the boys eyes flutter just a little. "Come on, that's it! Come on, come back, Rory."

"What's going on!" a familiar friendly voice cried as its owner threw open the gym doors.

"Mr. Schue! Oh my god, call for help! Now!" Sam ordered. Will was about to ask questions, but when he heard the urgency in Sam's voice, and what looked like another person laying on the floor, he immediately pulled his phone from his pocket and started dialing.

"Sam, what happened?" he asked as calm as he could muster. When he finally got a good look at the boy on the floor, his heart sank.

Sam was two steps above hysterical. "I don't know! I came out of the locker room and he was here, like this, and… I don't know what happened!"

The operator picked up on the line, and Will began to relay to her the situation. "He's unconscious, but he's breathing," he answered her. "Uhh… he's bleeding, there's blood on his face and his shirt."

"It's coming from his shoulder, he has a big cut on his shoulder! Tell her it's coming from his shoulder!" Sam demanded. He repeated himself until he heard Mr. Schue tell the operator the source of the blood.

"I can't tell. Sam, does anything look broken?"

Sam started to gingerly touch him, not wanting to irritate any of the bruises, nor cause more pain if something was broken. "I don't know! His face is swollen up, what's wrong with his face!"

"Sam, listen to me, you have to calm down," Mr. Schue told him. Sam started to shout something but Will put his hand on his forearm to get his attention. "Sam! Calm down!"

"Mr. Schue, what's wrong with his face?" Sam squeaked.

The operator was still asking Mr. Schuester questions, questions that neither one of them had the answers to. "Ma'am, we don't know how anything happened. Sam came out of the other room and there he was."

"Make them hurry up…" Sam cried. He tried to scream it out, but his throat was so dry it wouldn't let him. He started saying random phrases of despair, calling for Rory to wake up, cursing God and everyone.

Mr. Schue hauled off and smacked him in the face. Sam was awestruck. He had never been hit by a teacher, nor did he ever expect Mr. Schuester to be the violent type. "Sam, get a hold of yourself. Now."

Sam was shaking, but he knew his teacher was right. He wasn't helping by flipping out. "Mr. Schue, are they coming? Are they almost here?"

"Operator, I hear the sirens. They're here," Will stated. She gave him another instruction before he hung up the phone. "When they get in here, back up and let them do their job."

Sam couldn't find words, so he only nodded. He couldn't see clearly anymore, his eyes so filled with tears, all he could make out was a blur of red, black, and tan. He heard the doors open, a bunch of shouting, Mr. Schuester speaking. He felt himself being dragged backward, maybe my Mr. Schue as the same arms that dragged him also pulled him into a hug.

"Get the oh two on him!" one voice shouted.

"Be careful, there's a shoulder wound," another cautioned.

"All right, one count of three, lift," yet a third voice ordered. All Sam could see was the colored blur amidst a bunch of white and blue blurs. He felt himself being half pushed – half pulled out of the gym, felt the cold air hit his body. He could make out red and white flashing lights, heard more talking but he wasn't sure what they said.

"Sam, we're going with them, okay? You gotta get up in the ambulance, but you can't interfere. I'm coming too," he heard. It was Mr. Schue speaking to him. Sam just nodded his head, not really processing the words. Mr. Schuester helped to pull him into the ambulance, positioned him on the bench seat.

Machines were beeping, a radio was hissing. More voices giving out orders.

"Get his shirt and shorts," one said.

"Starting IV," said another. His eyes were beginning to focus again as he wiped tears from them. Rory was laying on a stretcher, three paramedics around him. One was sticking a needle in his arm – an IV line.

Another paramedic was cutting open his clothes, while the third was applying pressure to the wound on his arm.

"The medic that finished first – the cutter – grabbed a clipboard and started asking questions. Sam only caught bits and pieces of Mr. Schue's answers.

"Rory Flanagan. Fifteen years old. He's a foreign exchange student, his family lives in Ireland," Will answered. "Will Schuester, and Sam Evans. I'm their teacher."

"Who is his American contact?"

"Pierce. I can call them," Will answered again. He slipped out his phone and dialed. It was obvious it was Brittany and she was confused. "No, no, Brittany listen, there's been an accident. No, not that kind of accident. Rory's been hurt. I need your parents. No, no, listen, I need your parents. Give me their numbers. Yes, you can come too, but make sure they bring their paperwork for him. Okay, okay, just go to the ER waiting room, we'll come get you. Brittany, this is an emergency, I'm serious."

He hung up his phone and started to dial another number. After what seemed like forever, Brittany's father answered. Mr. Schue explained the situation and gave him some instructions before hanging up again.

"They're on their way. They'll have all of his paperwork for their guardian rights, and contact info for his family," Will told the medic. She scribbled on the clipboard and then turned to help the other two medics. Before long, they arrived at the hospital and everything else became a haze again.

Mr. Schue looked at Sam. The boy was a complete mess. "Sam, you need to call your parents."

"They – they left. They aren't here. They went on a trip."

"Sam, call them. When we get to the hospital, call them," Mr. Schue ordered.

-ooo-

Things only got crazier when they arrived to the emergency room. Brittany's parents arrived not even five minutes after they did, already filling out paperwork to prove their guardianship. Brittany was with them, accompanied by Santana.

Brittany's mother was on the phone, trying to reach Rory's parents in Ireland, while Mr. Pierce was in the emergency room, being briefed by the doctor on the situation.

Sam was hysterical. He continued to beg Mr. Schuester to get him back in the emergency room. Will finally had the threaten him, telling him that if he didn't calm down, security would throw him out and he wouldn't get to see him at all.

Emma Pilsbury arrived, bringing Sam his gym bag as well as Rory's. Coach Beiste sent her good wishes but insisted it was better to limit the number of visitors for the time being.

"Have the doctors said anything yet?" Emma asked Will, hugging him, trying not to look at the despairing teenager that was Sam.

"No. Brittany's dad is in there with them now. I called Figgins, told him there was an accident and to pull the security tapes," Will answered.

"Why the security tapes? What's going on, Will?" she asked, worried.

"I'm not sure, but with a deep puncture wound in his shoulder, all those bruises? His nose looked broken. I don't think it was just an accident, Emma. Something took place and those tapes will tell us what."

Before they could discuss it further, Mr. Pierce came through the door. He looked very worried, wringing his hands like an old lady.

"What did they say?" Sam asked, rushing up to him. "Is he gonna be okay? When can I see him?"

"Sam, Sam, calm down. Let him talk," Will said, putting his hands on Sam's shoulders. Emma stood next to him, holding his hands; odd for her since there was no hand sanitizer nearby.

"I signed off on all the paperwork. He's in surgery right now," the man began. Sam started to ask something but Mr. Schue urged him to be patient.

"The surgery is for the stab wound. Or at least that's what they say it looks like. Like he got stabbed with a knife." Mr. Pierce hung his head, feeling his heart screaming in despair.

Sam started to tear up again, was again about to speak, but the words never came.

"He has a broken nose, which will heal on it's own. He'll have a black eye they think. They did a brain scan, and he did have a concussion. His right shin has a small fracture, but that will heal on its own, too. Other than that, everything else is bruises," Mr. Pierce revealed.

"Who would do this? I mean, I'm not the kids biggest fan, I don't even like him, but I wouldn't wish this on anybody," Santana announced. While Brittany found the sentiment endearing, the others just shrugged it off as immature, looking at her with disdain. "What?"

"Santana, why don't you and Brittany go get some coffee for Sam and Mr. Schuester," Emma suggested, taking ten dollars about of her pocket. "Make sure you get something, too." The two girls took the cash and sauntered off to the cafeteria.

Mr. Pierce explained that he was due out of surgery within the hour, but he would need to be in the recovery room for another couple of hours before they sent him to a patient room. That meant it was going to be a long evening for them.

Sam turned around and hugged Mr. Schuester, crying. "Go on Sam, let it out. He's going to be okay." He pat Sam's back like a little kid as the teenager bawled on his shoulder.

-ooo-

"When are Sam's parents supposed to get here?" Emma asked her boyfriend.

"They were leaving right away. His father said it was a four hour drive, so maybe by the time they get here, he'll be out of recovery and in a room," Will answered.

Sam had finally fallen asleep on the couch in the waiting room, curled up on his side. His face was still red from his excessive crying. He had changed back into his regular clothes at Will's suggestion so that he could get rid of the blood that had gotten on his shirt and shorts.

Brittany and Santana sat at a table, coloring in the book they had bought from the gift shop. Brittany spent almost a half hour browsing cards trying to find the perfect ones for her friends, while Santana selected a coloring book and markers for them to entertain themselves. She got a magazine for herself, and by the time the two of them returned, things had calmed down.

The doctor finally came out from the recovery room to talk to them. Will woke Sam up so he could join the rest of them in hearing the update.

"He's recovering well," the doctor began. "The wound was not very deep, and aside from some muscle damage, no major organs or nerves were hit. It will scar, but he will heal fully. As far as his nose, we set it and it should heal just fine. He may sound funny speaking for a little while until the swelling goes down.

"Oh he always sounded a little funny. He's foreign," Santana added. Mr. Schuester, Sam, and Emma all turned to give her a harsh glare.

"The fracture to his shin was incredibly small. That will heal within a couple of weeks. He'll need to be easy on his leg with a while, to ease the weight. We'll give you more in depth instructions for aftercare before he's sent home," the doctor continued.

"When can we see him?" Sam interrupted.

The doctor looked from Sam, to Will, to Emma, to Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, and finally to Brittany and Santana. "He's in a room now. They're getting him settled in. As soon as he's ready, I'll send a nurse out. However, I am limiting the number of visitors at a time. You can't all go in there at once."

"Mr. Pierce, why don't you and Sam go in first? We-" Mr. Schuester began, but Sam interrupted.

"No. I want you to come with me, Mr. Schue. No offense, Mr. Pierce, but-."

"I understand, Sam. It's okay. We need to get in touch with his family again, give them an update," Brittany's father said.

Sam nodded at him, thankful that the man understood. Sam sat back down on the couch, but Brittany approached him, an envelope in her hand.

"I got you a card," she said quietly. "They didn't have any 'I hope your friend gets better' cards, so I just got you a 'get well soon', because I hope you feel better when you see him." She handed him the envelope and watched as he opened it.

Inside the envelope was a car with a picture of a vase and flowers on the front, except Brittany had added her own artwork. She had drawn several more flowers with markers, and a ribbon around the vase. Inside the card she had written,

_We hope Rory gets better soon because it makes us sad to see you cry._

_Love, Brittany, Santana, and Lord Tubbington_

While it didn't surprise him that Brittany had been so thoughtful, he hadn't expected Santana to even bat an eyelash, but despite her crude remarks, she was visibly upset by the situation.

"Thank you. Both of you. And Lord Tubbington," Sam said with a slight smile. He hugged both girls and showed Emma the card when she came over to let him know the nurse had just come out.

"I have a card for Rory too, but I want to give it to him myself," Brittany declared.

"Sure thing, Britt. We'll be back soon," Sam said. Will and Emma would be accompanying him to the room while Mr. and Mrs. Pierce got back in touch with his parents.

-ooo-

Walking down the hall was creepy. Almost every room was dark, either empty or the patients had gone to sleep. Nurses were at the station, filling out paperwork or on the phone. One was in the supply room, gathering a handful of items. They finally stopped in front of room 414.

"He's groggy, and he's going to be weak, so don't try to push him. Don't stay for too long, and don't ask him a lot of questions. Just let him see you, let him know you're here for him, that you're thinking about him. You can interact more tomorrow, after he has had a chance to recover a little more," the nurse said. She pulled back the curtain, and let them in.

Sam wasn't quite prepared for the sight before him. On the bed was Rory, looking incredibly beat up and battered. He had two IV lines going in his arm, and his shoulder was heavily bandaged. His face was still swollen, but no longer bloody.

"Rory?" Sam asked quietly. "Rory, it's Sam. I'm here."

Rory's eyes fluttered a little as he tried to focus. The room was dimly lit, but he could still make out the familiar blonde hair and thick lips.

"Sammy…" he croaked. He tried to move his arm but he grunted in pain when he recognized that it was that arm that had been injured.

"Don't move, baby. I'm here, don't worry," Sam cooed. He gently grasped Rory's other hand, squeezing gently. "You're gonna be okay."

Rory attempted to smile, but it hurt too much. He could still feel pain shooting through his head – all seeming to stem from his nose.

"Hey, Rory. It's me, Mr. Schue, and Miss Pilsbury."

"You don't have to say anything, we just wanted to say hi. You're going to heal up real good, the doctor said," Emma stated, trying her hardest to smile and not cry.

"What – my parents?" Rory asked, his voice low.

Sam looked up to Mr. Schuester for an answer. He had been so wrapped up in worry that he hadn't even paid attention to that issue.

"They've been told. They're going to try and get the next flight possible to come out here and see you. They said to tell you they love you," Will said. Rory attempted to smile again but only succeeded in causing more watering of his eyes.

"Sam, we're gonna step right out here, so you can talk alone. We'll be right here," Emma told him. Will put a hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed, then reached down and gave Rory's hand a squeeze before surrendering it back to Sam.

Rory's whole body ached. He felt like he had been put through a meat grinder. He had the worst migraine headache, every nerve seemed to be screaming in pain, and his face felt like it was on fire.

"Don't worry, they're gonna find out what happened to you, okay? They have security tapes. We're gonna get to the bottom of this, I promise," Sam whispered.

"I love you, Sammy," Rory croaked. Sam couldn't hold back anymore after that. He let tried to blink the tears away but they fell anyhow.

"I love you, too. I love you so much. I'm gonna take care of you while you recover, okay? I'm going to make sure you get better good as new," Sam consoled. He stared down at the boy, his beautiful face purple and black. Even his eyes had lost their usual glint.

Rory squeezed Sam's hand back. "I'm so tired. I just woke up, but I want to sleep again. Everything hurts so bad."

"Yeah, the nurse said you need your rest. She'll give you something for pain and it'll send you right off to sleep and you'll feel a little better in the morning. I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Sam started off in near hysterics again.

"Oh god I am so sorry, Rory. I should have been there, to keep you safe. I shouldn't have left you out there. I should have…" his words trailed off as he sobbed.

Rory squeezed his hand again, getting his attention. "Not your fault. Azimio. It was Azimio."

Sam's head perked up. "What? Azimio? Azimio Adams did this to you?"

"Uh huh. And other guys I don't know."

"We have to tell someone. He'll go to jail, he can't get away with-"

"Calm please," Rory said softly. "In the morning. Then we can tell them. I need rest."

Sam sighed. He knew he was right, Rory needed his rest for the night, and if it was Azimio, they needed to get the cops involved, have him arrested, and probably even go to court or something. It was too much for his mind all at once to process.

"Love you, Sammy," he said softly. "I'm tired. Stay until I fall asleep."

"I will. I promise." He didn't say anything else, but simply sat there, holding his hand until Rory finally fell asleep, wheezing as he couldn't breathe through his nose.

A few minutes later, Mr. Schuester came back in. "Sam, the nurse said it's time to leave. Come on," he said. Sam looked back at him with sad eyes. "I know, but come on, we have to. You need some rest. Your parents are here."

Reluctantly, Sam let go of his hand and followed Mr. Schue into the hall, looking back at Rory one last time before he joined his parents in the waiting room.

-ooo-

"Feel a little better now that you've seen your friends?" the nurse asked Rory as she swabbed his arm with alcohol. "They seem like very nice people."

"They are. The best I could ask for," he managed.

"Okay, you'll feel a little stick," she noted. "And all done. That should ease the pain and help you sleep. You can have something to eat in the morning after we change your dressings."

It didn't take long before the medicine kicked in. The pain in his shoulder eased off from a piercing throb to just a strange pulsing sensation. His shin seemed to almost go numb, as did his face. Whatever it was she had given him, it was working. Within five minutes, he was out like a light.

He had hoped for a dreamless sleep, but unfortunately that didn't happen. Instead, the incident – or what he could remember of it – replayed in his head. Minor details were fuzzy, but he remembered being punched, the sound of his nose breaking echoing in his ears like a gunshot. He was kicked, and then Azimio stabbed him, except in his dream, he stabbed him in the chest, right in the heart. That was where his dream changed. He pulled out the blade, turned it around, and stabbed Azimio right back.

-ooo-

Sam's parents had taken the distraught teenager home, his mother giving him an Ambien to knock him out. He needed a good night's rest. Stacy and Stevie were still with their aunt and would stay there for the duration of their little vacation. They didn't need to know what was going on.

Brittany tried to sleep, but she kept envisioning various horrible things that may have happened to her friend. She knew leprechauns weren't real, but she kept seeing him in her head, dressed in his Itchy the elf outfit, falling off the bleachers, hanging from the basketball hoop, falling off the diving board in the pool. When she finally did fall asleep, she dreamt of Lord Tubbington, licking Rory's face and making him stand up, sparkling with glitter.

Lord Tubbington lay at Brittany's feet, sleeping soundly, completely unaware that his houseguest was in the hospital. He did dream of cheese, however.

Santana lay in her own bed, feeling a little guilty for having picked on the kid so much. True, she had tried to bomb him to death with dodge balls, but she never meant to really hurt him. It hadn't phased her that they caused his nose to bleed, but this was something much more serious. Nobody deserved what he had gone through – whatever it happened to be. She felt her heart grow, however, when she thought about Brittany, sitting at the table with her markers, drawing extra flowers on the cards and adding a figure of her cat inside.

Rory's family had already packed and scheduled the first flight out of Ireland that they could get. Seamus came along with them, worried about his brother. His mother was hysterical, having to take something to calm herself down. His father, while able to project a more calm exterior, was going crazy inside. All he could think about was finding out who did this to his son, and how to make sure justice was served. Unrealistically, he felt that if the American government wouldn't punish the perpetrator, he would drag them back to Ireland for some vigilante justice. Sadly, that was only fantasy.

Emma and Will struggled to sleep themselves. Will had seen the boy before the ambulance had arrived, and couldn't get the image out of his head. He actually cried for him, Emma holding onto him as she shed tears of her own. As far as both of them were concerned, the glee kids were like their own children, and to see any of them suffering like this was painful.

-ooo-

**Tuesday**

Sam was at the hospital first thing in the morning, his parents calling Principal Figgins to alert him that he would be taking off the rest of the week. The moment it turned nine, Sam was at the nurse's station, asking for entry.

"Good morning sleepy head," Sam said, attempting a smile. "You look a little better this morning." He caressed his forehead with the back of his hand and leaned down for a gentle kiss.

"How's my face?"

"It's looked better, but you're still cute," Sam joked. "The swelling went down a little bit, but it's still purple. The doctor said it's broken, but should heal pretty well."

Rory shifted so he could sit up in the bed. He groaned a little at the aching that kicked in with the movement, but he was tired of laying down. "My shoulder hurts a lot. I have a headache that refuses to go away. I guess I'm lucky, though. He didn't hit anything major."

Sam gritted his teeth as the thought of Azimio popped into his head. He had no doubts about evidence – the security tape would show that it was he who did this, but what concerned Sam was what the outcome would be. Would he go to jail? Juvenile detention? At the moment, the only solution Sam could think of was the electric chair.

"Ugh. I feel like a machine. They've got me hooked up to all these things. Needles in my arm, wires all over my chest. And this really uncomfortable thing down there," Rory complained, motioning to his crotch.

"Wow. They need to get rid of that. I hurt just thinking about it."

"Good morning gentlemen!" a nurse said as she came into the room. "I'm Anna, his day shift nurse," the woman explained, shaking Sam's hand.

"I'm Sam. Rory's uh-" he hesitated a moment. Was it a good idea to say?

Rory made the decision for him. "His boyfriend."

Anna smiled at them. "Oh how wonderful. He's so handsome, Rory!" Sam blushed a little. "I need to change his dressings. You can stay if you want."

Rory gave him a look that told him to stay put. Anna pulled in a small cart with supplies on it, then closed the door behind her. "This shouldn't be too bad. It might sting a little bit when I clean it off, but it prevents infection."

"What exactly are you gonna do?" Sam asked. Fortunately, his experiences in hospitals were very minimal.

Anna began her work, explaining as she went along. She pulled down the top of his gown so she could access the bandages. "Well, first I'm going to take off the old ones," she said, doing just that. The gauze was bright red, but not too much.

"Then, I'm going to clean the site off," she went on. "This is the part that might sting a bit." She took a wet cloth that smelled of rubbing alcohol and started to gently dab around the cut. Rory hissed through his teeth. "I'm sorry hon. I'll be done in a second."

Sam held onto Rory's other hand, feeling his strong squeeze as the pain hit. "Where are the stitches?" he asked.

"Oh, they actually glue most small wounds like this closed now. It scars less, and doesn't require a follow up to remove anything. It should heal a little faster, too," Anna answered. She gently dabbed some dry cotton around the area and then started to wrap some fresh gauze around his shoulder.

"See, that wasn't too awful bad, was it?" she smiled at him. "It doesn't look like it's got excessive bleeding, so that's good. I won't have to change it often, and the healing will progress better."

Rory nodded. "What about my headache? My head hurts really bad still."

"The doctor ordered some mild painkillers that should stave off your headache, along with most other pain you might have right now. In fact, that's my next task," she said, taking a syringe off of the cart.

She uncapped it and swabbed his forearm, then stuck the needle in, pushing the stopper down. "Just a little pinch. This won't make you sleepy like the one they gave you last night. We want you to try and be more alert today."

"What else has to be done before he can go home?" Sam asked. To him it looked like there wasn't much to it.

"Really it's pretty simple for this. We're gonna ice up his face some more periodically today to help with the swelling. There isn't anything to do about his shin. He just needs to try not to put pressure on his leg for a few weeks."

"What about that?" he asked, pointing at the gauze.

"By the time he leaves, he shouldn't need a wrapping anymore. Even if he does, you saw how easy it is to replace it. Like I said, he isn't discharging, so that moves things along faster," Anna explained. "Otherwise, it's mostly pain management. That shoulder is going to be sore for a while. Your nose, too. I'm sure the doctor will prescribe some oral medication when you leave."

Sam looked at Rory, giving him a faint smile. He put his hand on his forehead and ruffled his hair. "What about uh… that… tube thing?" he asked, pointing toward the unfriendly invasion down below.

"They put that in anytime someone goes under anesthesia. It's just for urine collection. I can actually take that out since you're coherent. I know it is uncomfortable."

"It just feels really weird. Like I'm always peeing."

Sam giggled a little. "Heh, sorry. That just sounded funny." Rory cut him a look that told him to be quiet and quit making fun of him."

Sam watched with morbid fascination as Anna lifted up his gown and with gentle hands, removed the tube. Rory grunted a little, but otherwise tolerated it.

"Good riddance to that thing," Rory grumbled as she threw it in the trash bin. "Can I have something to eat yet?"

"Yes you can. Breakfast should be arriving on the cart any time now." She turned to Sam and gave him a fake stern look. "Now don't sneak anything in here. He has to eat what we give him for now. Once the doctor says it's okay, then he can have regular food."

Sam snickered. "So I guess it would be really mean for me to enjoy a big juicy cheeseburger right in front of you, huh?"

Rory gave him an evil look. "Don't you dare!"

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"I'm done for now, so you boys behave yourselves. You can have up to three visitors at a time, okay? The nurse's aid will bring you your food tray, and I'll be back around noon for more medication. Just use the call button if you need anything in the meantime." Anna smiled at both of them and left the room, leaving the door open behind her.

They were silent for a moment, neither knowing what to say next. Finally, Rory asked where his parents were.

"Brittany's dad said they were catching the next flight they could get. I would think tomorrow they might get here. What are you going to tell them?"

Rory sighed, having wondered the same thing. "I don't know. I hope they don't get upset and take me back to Ireland yet."

Again they were both quiet until Rory shared another thought. "While they're here, I might… I might tell them about… you and me."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, with all this going on, do you want to break that news to them too?"

"I think I do. I want them to know who I am. Who you are. I want them to un'erstand how much you mean to me. If it wasn't for you-"

"If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even be hurt. I should have been there with you. I shouldn't have let this happen," Sam said sullenly.

Rory wanted to roll his eyes. "It's not your fault. Azimio would have found a way to do whatever he wanted to do, no matter who was around."

"Maybe. But it still makes me mad at myself."

"Stop being mad at y'eself. Whatever you think, you're 'ere now, and that's what matters."

Sam tried to hold back a laugh. "Sorry, I can't help it. Your accent is coming out strong again."

"Has anybody ever told you that  _you_  have an accent?" Rory countered. "To me, I don't have an accent, you do."

"Okay okay, I get your point," Sam replied. He stood up and leaned over, kissing him on the forehead. "Hey, look, breakfast."

The nurse's aid came in and sat down a tray that had scrambled eggs, toast with butter and jelly on the side, and a glass of orange juice. It didn't look very appetizing.

"This isn't as good as yours, Sammy. You cook a lot better than this."

Sam smiled. "When you get out of here, I'm going to make you the biggest breakfast ever. Bigger than the one I made you before."

"But you'll make me fat," Rory objected. "You don't want a fat boyfriend, do you?"

"I don't care if you're fifty pounds, or five hundred," Sam said smugly. He snuck a sip of Rory's orange juice while he was eating his toast.

The rest of the day was slow. Around eleven, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce came in with news from his parents. They were going to be landing in Philly around seven in the evening, and then were expected in Ohio by eleven. Visiting hours would be over, so they would have to wait to see him later.

After four, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pilsbury came by, the latter with Sam's homework and books.

"I talked with your teachers, and they will work something out with you for catching up later. Don't worry about anything at all, just get better," Emma said.

"The glee club sent this for you, too," Mr. Schue noted, setting a large vase of colorful flowers on the bedside table. He handed him a card that the entire club had signed. There were several extra pieces of note paper inside where some of them had written long messages to him.

"What did you find out about the security tape?" Sam asked pointedly. "I want proof of what happened. Azimio will not get away with this."

Both Will and Emma exchanged looks. "Principal Figgins got the tape, and watched it. We can see who it is pretty well. It would hold up in court. The police were called this morning and when Figgins showed them the tape, they went to arrest Azimio."

"What's going to happen to him?" Rory asked meekly.

"Nobody is sure of anything right now. I don't know if he will go to jail, a boy's home, or what. The proof is there, though, and that makes a big difference. We need to wait to speak with your parents, to see if they want to press charges, which I hope they do," Will replied.

Brittany and Santana were the next to arrive. Brittany gave him the card she got, which was also signed by herself, Santana, and her cat. Written inside, she had put:

_Eat lots of clovers and get better soon. Leppurcans aren't real but you can still be mine._

Even Santana had something nice to say, or at least what passed for nice. "You get on my nerves pixie, but you didn't deserve this. Recover soon so you can annoy me and I can rag on you without feeling guilty."

Soon after their visit, the police arrived to take statements from Rory, Sam, and Will. By the time they left, it was time for dinner, and soon after that, for the night shift nurse to change his dressing again.

Fortunately, his wound wasn't 'discharging' much at all, so they left his gauze alone for the night. Anna came in just before she left to bid him a good night, and to make sure her relief didn't need anything else.

"Uhm, is it possible for him to stay with me? Overnight?" Rory asked, giving Anna a pleading look.

She smiled at him, as did the other nurse. "Who can resist that face? Look at him, Dawn. You think we can allow that?"

Dawn, the night nurse, gave a sheepish grin. "We can let you stay as long as you don't interfere with his sleep, or cause any commotion at all. I can get you a pillow and a blanket so you can sleep in that reclining chair."

Rory and Sam both smiled, their eyes lighting up for the first time all day.

Sam called his parents and told them what he was doing. They weren't thrilled with the idea that he was staying overnight, missing more school the next day, but after some convincing, they agreed to let Sam stay out the entire week as long as he retrieved his work and did it while he was at the hospital.

"I get to meet your parents tomorrow morning. Are you nervous?" Sam asked him as he was drifting off to sleep.

"Yes. I don't know what will happen. I'm tired." Rory started to go in and out of sleep until he finally conked out for the night. Sam watched him sleep for at least an hour before he fell asleep in the less than comfortable chair. He spent that entire hour thinking about what he was going to say to Rory's parents, and for the first time in a while, said a prayer.

 


	10. Episode 10: And the World Came Crashing Down, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes:Last chapter sure was crazy, wasn't it? I'm sure some of you are wondering why I took this story the route I did. In season 2 we saw how Kurt was bullied for being different; being gay. He was able to take one option that many kids may not be able to afford: going to private school. Rory had no choice but to stay, and I wanted to show what may happen to a student who is bullied and things go way too far. I was fortunate – I was able to take Kurt's route and change schools but not everyone is so lucky and I hope that any of you reading this story who is bullied in any way, are able to have the resources available to them to survive and press on._

**Recap:**  The shit hit the fan when Azimio attacked Rory in the gym, sending him to the hospital. Everyone was worried but after a fashion he was all patched up, now he's just waiting for his parents to come visit and so he can be released from the hospital and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 10: And the World Came Crashing Down, Part 3**

**Wednesday**

"Mr. Pierce called while you were in the shower," Rory told Sam as he came out of the bathroom. "My parents will be here at ten."

"That gives you about two hours. I'll ask the nurse if we can clean you up," Sam suggested. He left the room and came back a minute later. "Anna said you're cleared for clean off."

He opened a cabinet and pulled out a plastic tub and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, the basin was filled with hot water and he was carrying a plastic baggie with a bar of soap, a wash rag, and a towel. He shut the door and pulled the curtain, just to be safe.

"Okay champ, off with the ball gown," Sam joked, reaching behind him to untie the strings and pull off the gown.

"I look awful!" Rory exclaimed, noting that there was iodine stains on his body, and a few small splotches of blood. Mostly he just felt dirty. "I don't want you to see me like this," he complained, pulling the sheet up over himself.

"Oh stop that. I've seen you naked, remember? I'm gonna give you your sponge bath and you'll feel better. Or would you rather have the nurse do it?" Sam teased. Rory slowly shook his head. "I didn't think so."

Sam pulled the sheet off of him and wet the rag, got some soap, and started on his feet first. He slowly moved up his legs, making sure to be extra gentle on his shin. "Does that hurt?"

"Just a little. It feels like it's bruised really bad."

"I guess you can always ride on Artie's lap until you can put pressure on it," Sam said with a grin.

Rory rolled his eyes. "You are not funny, Sammy. He's nice, but yours is the only lap I plan to sit on."

"Good to know," Sam replied. He moved on and continued to wash all the way up to his waist. He behaved himself, not teasing the injured boy as he washed around his crotch and rear. When he got to the surgical site, he hesitated.

"Go ahead. I know you won't hurt me," Rory encouraged. Sam pulled back the bandage and dabbed around, making sure it was clean but not irritating it. After he was done he placed the bandage back on top, letting out a deep breath.

"Okay, that was nervewracking. I don't think I can bring myself to do your face though."

Rory took the cloth from him and gently dabbed his own face, the swelling having gone down more, but it still incredibly tender.

"Okay, you're done, you're making me nervous," Sam said, taking the rag from him. He took the towel and dried him off, then helped him slip on some boxers and pajama pants.

"Just leave the gown top on so they can get to my shoulder," the teen instructed when Sam pulled out a tee shirt for him.

A knock on the door signaled breakfast. Sam had gone to the cafeteria and gotten himself a muffin and some fruit and juice. Rory again had a breakfast of eggs, toast, and orange juice. By the time he was finished bathing, eating, and the nurse had gotten his vitals, they heard another knock on the door.

"Hello? It's mommy, looking for me son Rory," a soft feminine voice announced.

Rory looked over at Sam. His parents had arrived.

-ooo-

The three Flanagans, peered into the hospital room that housed their son and brother. His mom ran to his bedside, ready to throw her arms around him and hug him, but he quickly warned her to be careful.

Tears of joy filled the woman's eyes as she finally got to see her son, albeit injured on a hospital bed. "Oh son, how could this happen! This is so awful! Horrible!" she went on and on. Her husband finally calmed her down.

Sam watched, confused, as both Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan spoke in much thicker accents than Rory, making it difficult to understand them. His brother, Seamus, didn't say a word but merely stood by his father's side, eyes wide. He couldn't have been any older then twelve.

"How d' ye feel son?" his father asked.

"I'm okay, pap. They are taking good care of me. Especially Sam," he answered.

"Sam? Your friend from choir?" his mother questioned. "That's kind of him. That's a true friend there, son."

At that point, Sam interrupted and introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Sam Evans. Fellow glee club member and best friend." He shook hands with both adults, smiling.

Mrs. Flanagan threw her arms around him. "Oh ye wonderful boy! Ye' been taking care of my boy, oh thank ye'!" Sam politely hugged her back, giving Rory a look that read 'is she always this crazy?'

Seamus finally left his father's side and stood at the edge of the bed, looking at his older brother. Rory reached over and ruffled his hair. "Hey little guy. Good to see you," he told him. Seamus smiled but still didn't say anything.

"He's always been shy in front of strangers," Mrs. Flanagan explained. Sam nodded and smiled, not sure exactly what to say to them.

His father finally spoke. "We talked to the doctor. He said ye' can go home t'morrow."

"How long will you stay?" Rory asked, wanting to spend some time with them, but for fun as well.

"Ma'be a week. Ma'be longer. We want to make sure ye' feeling better before we go," his father answered.

Rory decided to skip beating around the bush and ask what was on both his and Sam's minds. "Can I stay? In America? Can I stay here?"

Both Flanagan parents looked at each other longingly. "We haven't decided yet, son. Ye' realize this is a major event for ye'. We'll assess the situation and make a decision in a day or so," Mr. Flanagan explained.

"Can we have a few minutes alone?" Mrs. Flanagan asked, addressing Sam.

"Of course. I'm going to go make a call. Rory, text me when you're ready for me," Sam replied, walking out of the room.

"Mam, pap, I know you want to 'assess the situation' but I really do want to stay, if that makes a difference to you. It's really important for me to stay," Rory informed them.

His father looked at him with a serious glance. "We'll let ye' know, son. But what ye' want does matter to us, a lot."

Temporarily relieved, he explained to them what happened, but a very watered down version. A bully had gotten expelled for picking on several people, and since he was the most recent, he decided to take it out on him. A chance meeting with him ended up in trouble. He emphasized that it was Sam and Mr. Schuester who had come to his aid at the time.

His mother bawled openly as he recounted his tale, and even more when he showed them his healing wound. She smacked Seamus' hand when he tried to touch it. "Leave that alone!"

-ooo-

Sam paced back and forth in the lobby, waiting for a text message. He was nervous, unsure if he was telling his parents about his sexuality or not.

He finally did get a text, but not from Rory. It was from Kurt.

_Blaine and I want to come visit. When's a good time?_

Sam thought a moment then decided what to tell them.

_He gets out tomorrow, come over Brittany's after school._

Good, he would have a chance to talk to Kurt and Blaine, both of whom had past experiences with bullying. It would be nice just to talk about it with them. They could be a support group for each other.

It was almost an hour before he got a text from Rory asking him to return. When he got off the elevator, he saw a second message had come through.

_We're telling them together. I love you._

-ooo-

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, right next to Rory, who had positioned the bed so that he was sitting up like a chair. "Mam, pap, I need to talk to you about something important."

"More important than this right now?" his mother asked nervously.

Rory nodded.  _I have to be brave. Just like Sam. He was scared, but he told his parents and they were fine. I just have to be brave._

He took a deep breath through his mouth, and steeled himself for whatever reaction they might have. "Sam is me best friend. The one person that has made me feel welcome more than anyone else. He has shown me kindness and caring."

"And you are a very lucky boy t'be friends with him," his mother interrupted. "And you are a great friend t'our son." Sam smiled nervously, wondering how much longer she would be thinking that.

"What I want to tell you is," Rory paused, looking from his mother, to his father, to Seamus, to Sam, and back to his mother. "Sam is more than just a friend. A lot more."

"What do ye' mean by that?" his mother inquired. His father already had a blank look on his face.

Rory looked back at Sam one more time, who nodded his approval to go on. "I feel about Sam the way I am supposed to feel about girls." The words were out. No turning back. He had vocalized it, they heard it, and now everyone was in anticipation of the reaction.

"Mammy? Pappy? Say somethin', please," Rory urged, unable to gauge their thoughts.

"This is unexpected," his mother said flatly. "I never thought I would hear this."

Mr. Flanagan gave them both a stern look, not of hate, or anger, but of seriousness. "Son, do ye' realized what this means in the eyes o' the church?" His family was Catholic, just like most of Ireland.

"I… Yes, pap. Church says it's a sin." He hung his head low, waiting for the backlash to begin.

"What does the Lord teach us throughout his scripture? What does the Lord say t' his disciples, t' his followers? What is t' Lord's ultimate message, son? Can ye' answer that for me, son?" his father demanded.

Rory thought for a moment.  _Is this is a false question? A trick or trap? How am I supposed to answer this?_

"The Lord taught his people to love, sir," Sam answered for him. "The Lord taught his people to love each other."

"Yes he did, but what did he say about that?" Mr. Flanagan asked.

"He taught us that love is more important than hate," Rory answered this time. "He said that hate in your heart was poison to the soul. He taught that it was only right to love."

His father was silent. The tension in the room was thick. Intense. Urgent.

"Yes, son. Ye' are right. There's a lot o' rules in the book o' the Lord. A lot o' them are many years old. A lot o' them are a bit… out o' date." His answer was rather ambiguous. It gave no indication of what he meant.

"Son, do ye' love this man?" he asked, pointing at Sam.

"Yes, pap, I do. Very much," Rory answered confidently.

"Did ye' ask the Lord for guidance, son?"Mr. Flanagan asked next.

Rory answered in the affirmative. "And what did the Lord tell ye'?"

"H-he gave me strength, pap," Rory answered. His dad actually looked a little confused by his response. "Strength t' accept meself for who I am, and to be brave enough to love someone else."

Mr. Flanagan then turned to Sam. "And d' ye', Sam Evans, d' ye' love my son, the way he loves ye'?"

Without hesitation, Sam replied, "Yes sir. I do. Rory's very important to me, and I love him."

Again the room went silent. It was unnerving and creepy. "Son, ye' only fifteen. Such a young age, but ye' always been smarter than ye' years. Rory, I trust ye' judgment. If ye' asked the Lord for guidance, and this is what he led ye' to, and it makes ye' happy, then it will make me happy, and proud of ye'."

Everyone was stunned. Not only had his father accepted it, but he approved it, and even took pride in him. "Me son, as long as ye' right with the Lord, then I approve of ye'. The Lord never turned his back on his son, and neither shall I."

Rory smiled, gave a sigh of relief, and wiped his eyes. "Mammy, do you think the same thing?"

"Honey, ye' father is right. As long as the Lord guides you, then I will not stand in ye' way." Mrs. Flanagan was tearing up again, everything far too emotional for her for one day.

"Seamus, what do you think?" Rory asked, not sure how his younger brother would take it. He just shrugged. "That's my brother for you."

"How long has this been going on?" Mr. Flanagan asked.

"Since November, sir," Sam answered. He wasn't entirely convinced that the Flanagans were as cool with it as they said, but that wasn't up to him to figure out. This was Rory's family, he knew them much better than Sam ever would.

Mr. Flanagan looked like he was in deep thought. Sam gave Rory a questioning glance, to which Rory just shrugged with his left arm.

"I think," his father began, "that if ye' are going to be attached to me son, then I want t' know you. I would insist on that whether ye' a boy o' a girl."

"Yes, sir. That'd be great," Sam replied.

Once the awkwardness passed, the Flanagans excused themselves to seek lunch, while Rory and Sam stayed behind for their own meals. Once they were out of the room, both boys breathed much easier.

"That went okay, don't you think?" Sam asked him, rubbing Rory's arm. He nodded his head and closed his eyes to hold back the water. "Hey, what's wrong? They were okay, don't be upset."

"I could tell my pap is disappointed. He wanted grandkids. So did mam. They'll have them with Seamus, but I know they wanted me to have some, too. I can tell he isn't sure what to say. Did I mess up by telling them?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I think you did the right thing. They're your family. You want them to know the real you, don't you? They may not totally get it right now, but they'll adjust. Once they meet my folks and see how supportive they are, it'll make it easier on them."

"I hope so." Rory wiped his eyes, ignoring the tenderness on his face. "Does it really look that bad?"

Sam leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "No, baby. It's looking better. We can put some ice on it later if you want to, but it looks like most of the swelling went down. Even battered up, you're still as handsome as ever."

Rory sighed. There was too much to process. The attack, the pain, his family, coming out to them. That was a lot on a teenager for one week. "Sam?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I just wanted to… to thank you. For everything. I can't say it enough. I honestly thought about wanting to leave America until I met you. You made me want to stay. Everything has been so great with you," Rory said softly. "You even stay with me through all this."

"Of course I am! There's no way in hell I would put you through this alone. I'm your boyfriend, it's part of the contract to take care of you."

"Contract? I didn't sign anything."

Sam laughed. "It's another American expression. It just means… it just means that part of being a good boyfriend is doing certain things like taking care of you when you need it."

Rory smiled at him the best he could. "You do a very good job of that." Sam smiled in return and kissed him on the forehead again.

"I want to go," Rory finally stated as he was halfway through his poor excuse for a lunch.

"You need to go? Want me to get you the bottle?" Rory looked at him like he was nuts. "You said you wanted to go so I thought that meant you needed to pee."

It was Rory's turn to laugh at Sam. "No! I meant I want to go, get out of here. I want to go home. Home with you, I mean. I'm tired of being in here."

"You have to wait until the doctor says you can go. Maybe tomorrow, I think. I'll stay here with you again tonight. You'll have to go back to Brittany's though."

"Why? I want to go with you."

"I know, but that's technically your home away from home. They're gonna want you there." Rory looked saddened and disappointed. "Don't be upset. I'll come spend as much time with you as I can until you can get around again. Your parents will be there, too, so I can get to know them some more."

"I guess."

"Be a good boy or you won't get any toys for your birthday!" Sam warned playfully.

Rory grinned. "That's right. My birthday is coming up. I forgot."

Sam beamed. "I didn't! I'm gonna make sure you get one hell of a party! You deserve it. And just think, you'll be sixteen and we won't have to worry about the legal issue so much."

"That's true. That's something to look forward to. Sit on the bed with me. I want to cuddle up next to you and take a nap," Rory told him.

Sam didn't respond, but simply slid up on the bed, barely able to stay on. The bed was small. He didn't intend to go to sleep anyway, he just wanted to let Rory get some sleep and have some cuddle time.

"Get some rest. Love you, Ror."

"I love you too, Sammy." Rory snuggled up next to Sam the best he could, resting his head in the crook of his arm. Within five minutes, he was fast asleep.

-ooo-

Not long after Rory's family returned, Nurse Anna came in to let them know the doctor wrote his discharge orders. "Two tomorrow afternoon and he's a free man," she said happily. "Until then, he wants you to try and move around some more."

"Thank the Lord!' Rory exclaimed. "I am bored sitting here all day. My butt is probably flat as a potato cake."

Anna chuckled and then turned to his family. "I'm going to ask you guys to wait in the waiting area down the hall. Sam will help me get him out of bed and on his feet and with luck, we might be able to make it down the hall to come get you."

The three Flanagans got up and left, Seamus wishing him good luck, one of the few times Sam had even heard him speak.

"Well, there's a couple of ways we can do this. You don't want to put your weight on your right leg yet, trust me if you do you will wish you hadn't. We can have you use a walker, or you can use a crutch, but you'll have to put it under your left arm and kind of lean that way and it might be very uncomfortable."

"Are you sure I can't limp around?"

"If you try it, you risk possible injury. The pain would be awful if it cracks your shin any more," Anna told him.

Rory sighed. "I guess we can try the crutch. It'd be less noticeable maybe."

Anna nodded and returned a moment later with a metal crutch. It was the kind that he would hold in his hand, rather than under his armpit. "Okay, Sam, let's help him up. Sit on the edge of the bed and Sam will hold you steady while you get up. Don't put pressure on your leg."

"So how do I use this?" Rory asked holding it like a weapon.

"Just like this," Anna showed him. "Then when you stand, you put all the weight on that side. You can touch the floor with your right, but it won't hold your weight."

Sam got on his right side, putting his arms around him and getting in position to get him up.

"Ready Sam? Rory? On the count of three. One. Two. Three!" As soon as she said three, they shifted like a machine, getting him upright and on his feet. And then he stumbled backward and ended up on the bed again.

"Okay, not bad for a first try. Take a breath and we'll try again," Anna instructed. This time when they stood up, Sam kept his arm behind Rory to keep him from going backwards.

"This feels really odd," Rory said. As soon as he tried to take a step, he started to waver. Sam tightened his grip on him and kept him upright.

"Ow, ow ow, easy, easy, my shoulder," Rory complained as Sam struggled to keep him from falling. Sam loosed up and down he went, back on the bed.

Anna smiled, trying to put him at ease. "Maybe we can try the walker. It might be easier for you. You really only have to put up with this for about a week. By the time you go back to school you should be okay."

Anna left the room and returned a moment later with a walker. It had wheels on the bottom to make it easier to move.

"Hey look, you get a preview of old age," Sam teased. Rory gave him a nasty look. "Okay, just kidding."

They had a much easier time getting him up on the walker. It was a little painful to put weight on his right shoulder, but it wasn't unbearable. He put most of his weight on his left side and scooted himself across the floor. Sam stood right by his side just in case he started to slip or fall.

"Okay champ, let's get in the hallway," Anna said. She led him into the mostly empty hallway and patiently led him down it. "You're doing so good! Let's make it to the waiting room and get your family. They'll be so happy to see you up!"

It took them about ten minutes to hobble down the hall, but it was a great accomplishment when he rounded the corner and saw his family sitting on the couches.

"We're gonna do this a few more times between today and tomorrow morning before you leave. Now let's go back and then I want to check your dressing and make sure all this movement didn't hurt it," Anna explained.

After letting him sit down for a couple of minutes, they had him up on his feet again and hobbling down to his room. When he got back in the bed, Anna checked the surgical site and was pleased to see that it hadn't upset the healing wound.

The rest of the day, the Flanagans spent their time in the room, talking with Rory and getting to know Sam. Seamus finally started to talk a little more, feeling more comfortable with a stranger around.

Around eight in the evening, they had a visit from a pair of police officers. They were the same ones that had come and questioned him prior. They were friendly and personable, but also right to the point.

"Azimio Adams has been arrested and is in detention at Lima City Jail. His family hasn't posted bail yet. Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan, we will need to speak with you and the Pierce's as soon as possible to discuss a course of action," one of the officers stated.

"The fact that we have video evidence suggests that legal proceedings would be swift and painless. Odds are, you won't need to go through a lawyer. You may not even need to testify. Video evidence holds a lot of ground in a case like this," the other officer explained.

Everyone looked relieved to know that not only was Azimio detained behind bars for the time being, but also that legally, things should go smoothly. The question came down to exactly which party would have the easier time, legally, in pressing charges.

"Looks like you can rest a little easier now. The fucker is behind bars for now," Sam declared to Rory when they were again alone.

"I'm so tired. All that walking. She's tough," Rory said, referring to Anna. She had him get up and walking two more times, and then informed him she planned to get him up two more times the next day before he left.

"When we get home, I'm going to give you a nice long, hot, bath in the tub. You soak in that for a little while and you'll feel so good," Sam suggested.

Rory got a sly grin on his face. "Especially if Nurse Sam is the one bathing me."

"Yep, you're feeling better. Your libido is coming back," Sam joked. "Then again, they say that is one of the best stress relievers."

Rory continued to grin. Now he had something fun to look forward to when he got back.

-ooo-

Once again, Sam was up early as a rooster, taking a shower and eating breakfast with Rory before Anna came in to start moving him about. He fared much better this time, no longer requiring assistance to even get up on the walker.

Around noon, they had lunch and then Sam helped him get dressed. It still hurt when he tried to bend over real far. It wasn't stabbing pain in his shoulder, but it was an ache that he could easily have done without.

Not long after, his family and the Pierce's arrived to shuttle him back home to Brittany's. The challenge was that his room there was upstairs, and a walker was not stair friendly. Sam and Mr. Flanagan got on either side of him and helped him climb the steps, then shuffled him down to his room.

"Are you going to turn into a robot like Artie?" Brittany asked, finding concern over his new metal toy.

"Only for a little while," Rory answered, playing up to her. She had decorated his room with green streamers and cutouts of four leaf clovers, 'for good luck.'

"I told Lord Tubbington he could only visit with supervision because we didn't want his litter getting into your arm. Nothing is worse than a sandy sore," she said.

"That's really disgusting, Britt," Sam commented, screwing up his face.

Brittany simply shrugged. "If you need anything, let me know and I'll try and get it for you. Well, except what Sam can give you because I can't give you that. Ew if I could that would be really weird," she went on.

"Uh, thanks Brittany, I appreciate that," Rory said, giving Sam a look that read 'what the hell?'

Sam helped Rory get settled in, making sure that anything he might need was within arm's reach. He set his cell phone on the table, then plugged it in. After about ten minutes it was charged enough for Rory to check for messages.

Ten text messages since the last time he had used it only two days before to summon Sam back to his room. "Let's see, two from Kurt, three from Blaine, one from Mike, one from Tina, one from Finn, one from Rachel and one from Artie."

"Wow, when did you get so popular? I only got two."

"I don't think it's popularity. More like concern," Rory corrected. "It's nice to know they all care, though. Especially after all that tension."

"They care. Glee club is like a big family. We fight, we argue, we even get evil sometimes. Deep down though, we're all family," Sam explained.

Rory giggled. "So does that make us incestuous?"

Sam grinned slyly. "Maybe so, but I always did like walking on the wild side." He leaned down and kissed him, this time right on the mouth.

Once he was settled in, the visitors began to pour in. His family of course, and Sam's parents, Brittany's parents. After four, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pilsbury stopped by, along with an assortment of glee club members, Rachel and Finn bringing a large supreme pizza – Rory's favorite kind. It was around nine by the time everything settled down.

"Sammy, I want to go to your house. I feel better there," Rory complained. He mustered up the best "puppy dog face' he could.

"I want you there too, but you have to stay here for now." Rory wasn't satisfied with that answer but knew that arguing wasn't going to get him what he wanted. "You can come over tomorrow for a while, how about that?"

"Okayyyyy," the teen replied sarcastically.

"You are just like a little kid! Whining to try and get your way," Sam teased.

Rory grinned. "Exactly! I'm the patient, you're supposed to cater to me."

"Well if you're the patient, that makes me the nurse, and nurse knows best, so there," Sam countered back. He had the younger boy beat on that one, so he just sat there and pouted. The household (All three Pierce's, the three Flanagans, Rory, Sam, and Lord Tubbington) gathered in Rory's room to play a few rounds of  _Catchphrase_ , a game that was a mix of  _Hot Potato,_ and verbal  _Charades_.

By eleven, everyone was tuckered out, and dispersed to their various beds. Sam kissed Rory goodnight and stayed watching over him until he fell asleep, then headed home. It was the first good night sleep he had all week.

-ooo-

Sam helped his young friend hop into his house with the walker. The kids were still away for another day, so they had some privacy. After his mom and dad exchanged pleasantries and small talk with Rory, they went right to the bathroom.

"It's time for you, young sir, to get a nice, hot bath," Sam teased. He sat him down on the closed toilet seat and then turned on the water. Making sure it was nice and hot, he plugged the drain and let it fill.

"It's hot, but it will feel really good on your aching body, I promise. They do this sort of thing for football players sometimes, except usually I end up with freezing cold tubs instead of hot ones," Sam explained. "Now, if we can just get you nice and stripped."

Sam tugged at his shirt and pulled it off of him, making sure not to catch his arm up in it. There weren't any bandages since the wound had sealed up and wasn't exposed. It was gonna scar, but not too awfully bad.

Next he took off his shoes and socks, pretending to pass out on the floor. "You are not funny, Mr. Evans," he scolded. Recovering from his fit of laughter, Sam returned to stripping him down, taking off his jeans and boxers.

"Ready to go for a swim?" Sam helped him up and into the tub, the hot water burning at first, but then feeling incredibly relaxing. The room was steamy before, but it was getting thicker by the minute.

"You'll get your clothes all wet, Sammy," Rory teased, hinting to him to lose some clothes as well. Sam double checked the door lock to make sure it was safe, and then decided to do a little strip tease for him.

Rory watched intently as Sam swayed to an invisible beat, putting his hands all over himself in suggestive motions. When he got to his chest he peeled off his shirt. Rory unconsciously licked his lips upon seeing the toned abs and muscled pecs.

Next, he kicked off his shoes and socks, then almost painfully slowly, he unzipped his pants and started to slide them down. He was tenting his boxers already, a little wet spot of precum already soaking through.

"You are such a tease, Samuel," Rory scolded playfully. He started to move his left hand down toward his crotch but Sam bent over and grabbed his hand.

"Nuh uh. Don't even think about it," Sam demanded. "I got plans for you."

Rory raised an eyebrow, now suddenly intrigued. Sam on the other hand finished taking off his pants and then stood there in his boxers. He put one hand down his shorts and cupped himself, then slid the boxers off over his hand so that while naked, he was keeping his manhood hidden from sight.

"That's not fair! You get to see all of me; I want to see all of you!" Rory objected.

"In time, in time," Sam teased some more. It was all he could do to keep everything in one hand, especially in his aroused state.

"Come onnnnn, I'm the inured here, I've been through hell, let me see!" the young teen whined. Sam was loving the teasing. It was driving the boy crazy.

Sam grinned. He leaned down once again to kiss him, but Rory was going to play dirty. He closed his mouth and pulled his lips inward, turning his head away,

"Oh I see how it is," Sam said. He then stepped into the tub, his legs on either side of him. Rory reached up with his left hand and tugged at Sam's hand until he let go, exposing himself completely.

"Looks like you win," Sam smiled. He got down on his knees, hovering right above Rory's waist.

Rory's eyes turned to concern. "Be careful, don't sit on my leg," he cautioned.

"Oh don't worry. I won't be sitting on your leg. I have other ideas."

This time when Sam bent over to kiss him, Rory let him. They kissed feverishly, hungrily.

Sam scooted himself up a little higher, his butt right over Rory's hard dick. Sam sighed. "You know, I wasn't going to try this, because honestly trying it didn't appeal to me, but I think you earned a chance to see what it's like. Who knows, maybe I'll find out I like it."

"Wait, what do you mean? Maybe like what?"

Sam didn't say anything, but instead reached behind with his hand, took the boy's cock in his hand to hold it steady, and then slowly started to sit on it.

Having never even put a finger inside himself, it was quite a shock to suddenly feel something trying to penetrate him. He grimaced in discomfort as he tried to get used to the stretching feeling. He used one hand to slowly stroke himself while he used to other to hold himself steady so he wouldn't end up impaled far too soon.

"I don't know how you managed to do this," Sam grunted. He tried his best to relax himself, mentally demanding his ass to open up. He breathed heavily, letting down on it, inch by inch. When he finally had it all inside him, he took a sigh of relief.

"That feels really good," Rory said. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I'm okay. Just give me a second to get used to it." Rory had taken over stroking Sam with his left hand.

Sam decided it was time to move on, so he let himself come up about halfway, then sat back again. He repeated the action several times, never going but so deep. Eventually he slid a little, surprised he hadn't done it sooner in the water.

When he slipped, he fell back hard, impaled completely. The moment he felt Rory's cock hit his prostate, he realized what all the fuss was about. He almost cried out, but stopped himself just in time.

"Are you okay?" Rory asked urgently.

Sam answered by going up and down faster and harder, making sure he could feel that sensation with every time he sat back. Within minutes, he was riding him like a horse. Neither boy having ejaculated in days, it didn't take long before they were both shooting their seed – Rory inside Sam, and Sam all over Rory's chest and in the water.

"Wow," they said in unison.

Sam dismounted and crawled out of the tub, grabbed a towel and dried off. "Okay, time to clean you up for real now." He washed Rory's hair, massaging his head with his fingertips. He was still too nervous to wash his face for him; if he hit his nose just the wrong way, it would be painful, and Sam couldn't stomach hurting him.

After washing the rest of him down, he helped him out of the tub, wrapped a towel around him, and dried him off.

"I could get used to this kind of treatment," Rory stated with a smile. Sam smiled back and started to dry his hair with another towel. When he stopped, Rory asked him a question.

"Sam, did you ever do this kind of thing with Quinn?"

Sam was slightly unsure what was being asked of him. "What kind of stuff? Giving her a bath?"

"No, I just mean, taking care of her. Spoiling her."

The blonde scratched his head in thought. "Well, she never got hurt when I was with her, so I never had a reason to."

Rory shook his head. "Didn't her muscles ever hurt from too much working out? Or just a bad day, or anything like that?"

"No, I guess not. I mean, I cared, I guess it just never occurred to me or something," Sam replied, confused.  _Where is he going with this?_

"What was sex like?" the younger boy asked.

"What?" Sam choked out, shocked by the question.

Rory blushed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask that. I was just curious if she got the same kind of… attention."

"Quinn and I never had sex. Long story short, Puck got her pregnant two years ago, and ever since she supposedly went back to being celibate. Santana was the one I had sex with," Sam explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, what was that like?"

Sam laughed. "It was different. You see how her personality is. She's kind of untamed and wild. She was the same way in bed. Very aggressive, but also liked me to be aggressive, too."

Rory's interest was sparked. "Aggressive how?"

"Do you really want to know about my straight sex life?" Sam asked, bewildered. Rory nodded his head and gave a half-smile.

Sam shrugged. "Well, she liked to take charge, but she liked for me to take control from her." When Rory gave him a look that showed his lack of understanding, he went on. "She would come on all hot and heavy, trying to do with me what she wanted, but then she would want me to just flip her over and go for it."

Rory stared at him with interest. "To be pretty tasteless about it, she wanted me to bury my face in her crotch, then flip her on all fours and fuck her stupid."

"That doesn't sound like you at all," Rory laughed. "You don't usually talk so raunchy."

"I can talk raunchy, I just don't do it often. It has more bang if you only do it now and then. I didn't have a whole lot of respect for her anyway."

"But it's different with me…?" Rory asked almost sullenly.

"Yeah it is. I didn't love Santana. I didn't even like her all that much. But I do love you. A lot. Santana was just a way to get off after what happened with Quinn. I uh, can we not talk about it? Quinn is kind of a memory I wanna let go of. I don't want to remember our relationship," Sam said.

Rory nodded. "Okay, I'm sorry, Sammy."

Sam hugged him tight until he squealed, forgetting to be gentle on his right side. "Everything is different with you, Ror." He kissed him, holding him in his lap like a little kid.

"By the way," Sam started to whisper in Rory's ear. "When you get better, I'm going to bend you over, fuck your tight little ass so hard you beg me to stop, and then I'm going to milk the cum out of you until it hurts." Rory looked at him like he was insane. "What? You wanted raunchy!"

"It sounds so weird! But it's kind of sexy. Keep it in mind for later," Rory joked.

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted them. "What the hell are you two doing in there? Parting the red sea?" Sam's dad called through the door.

Both boys started to giggle until it turned into hysterics. "Have you ever tried to get someone in and out of a tub by yourself, without breaking your neck or theirs?" Sam called back.

"Yeah, I used to bathe you all the time. Didn't take that long. I used to wipe your ass too, but I'm really hoping he can handle that by himself!" It was all his dad could do to maintain any semblance of seriousness.

"Dad! Gross! Stop!" Sam cried.

"Hey, that's love, kids. You don't know love until you've cleaned up their puke or wiped their butt!" By then his father was rolling. Rory looked mortified. The pair quickly finished getting dressed and rushed out of the bathroom.

-ooo-

Sam helped Rory down onto his bed, laughing as they almost toppled into a heap. "You know, you really are capable of doing a little bit more than you're trying," he teased.

"Maybe I am playing it up just a little bit," Rory admitted. "That's only because I like you taking care of me."

"Brat," Sam laughed.

Their playful banter was again interrupted by Sam's father. "Boys, we want to talk to you. Both of you," Mr. Evans said.

Sam helped Rory scoot along the hall out to the living room where they realized there was a huge audience already in attendance. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan, and Mr. and Mrs. Evans.

"Have a seat boys," Mr. Evans said. The two took a seat next to each other on the couch.

"Is this some sort of intervention?" Sam asked, only half joking.

"No, son. This is actually a very serious conversation we need to have," his dad replied sternly. His joking manner from earlier in the day had disappeared.

Rory and Sam looked from parent to parent, suddenly nervous.

"As you both know," Mr. Evans began, "Azimio Adams was arrested, and is in detention. The thing is, he won't stay that way forever. With Rory being from Ireland, and not a U.S. citizen, we were concerned with what the legal proceedings were going to be for this kind of situation."

"Fortunately for us, son," Mr. Flanagan added, "The United States Government allows even a foreigner legal protection. We are pressing charges against this boy."

Rory and Sam looked at each other, nervous still, yet also a little relieved.

"Boys, Mr. Flanagan is aggressively pursuing charges, and after speaking with the police, it appears that with video evidence like what we have, it speaks volumes."

"What's that mean then dad? Is Rory going to have to go to court?" Sam asked his father.

Mr. Evans shrugged. "We really aren't sure yet. Probably not. Not with this kind of evidence. Add onto that the medical bills and paperwork that proves there was injury. The officer I talked to called it something along the lines of no confidence in the defense. A judge would most likely read all the paperwork, watch the video, maybe even look at pictures, and then rule based on that."

"What about Azimio? Won't he try to defend himself in court?" Sam added.

"Probably. Again, we have the tapes. He committed the crime, there is no question. His defense would only effect the punishment most likely. It might be the difference between jail and juvie, even though he isn't underage."

Rory looked scared. Things had been going well the past couple of days and now all this talk of courts and testimonies and jail was getting to him.

Mr. Evans stood by Rory's side and put his hand on his left shoulder. "Rory, I know you're freaked out. It's a lot for a fifteen year old to deal with. But look around the room. Your parents are here for you. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce are here for you. Me and my wife are here for you. And Sam, he's here for you. And your brother, and our kids, and your friends at school. Everything is going to be okay."

"Thank you, Mr. Evans," Rory said, trying to smile.

"It's our pleasure, Rory. Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Mr. Evans, what about the… other issue we discussed?" Mr. Flanagan spoke up.

"Other issue?" Sam asked, alarmed.

Sam's dad suddenly seemed very focused. "That's right, that's right. What about you, Pierce, you ready to tackle this other issue?"

"I'd say so. Let's get it on out in the open, nip it in the bud and all that," Brittany's father answered with a sly grin.

"Well boys, it looks like we have another issue we need to discuss. A very important one," Mr. Evans stated. "Are you both listening, boys?"

Both of the teenagers nodded their heads, eyes locked onto Mr. Evans, fear in their chests.

"Well it looks like Rory is going to be going to be moving out of the Pierce's home," his dad said. Sam and Rory immediately started to protest.

"Please pap, mam, I don't want to go back yet! It's too soon! I can't go back yet!" Rory begged. "Please don't make me leave!"

"Yeah dad, this is crazy, why does he have to leave? It's not fair!" Sam added. Both of them continued to plead their cases until Mr. Evans called for order.

"Boys! Boys! Be quiet! We're not done yet," he declared. The two quieted down, but were still visibly defensive and ready to argue.

Rory's dad knelt before his son, holding his hand. "Me son, ye' know we love ye'. We only want what's best for ye'." Rory was shaking. He began to breathe fast and shallow, his nerves on edge. Tears came to his eyes as he begged once more.

"Please, pap, not yet. I can't go back yet. I'll do anything you want just don't take me back yet."

Mr. Flanagan cleared his throat. "Me son, listen. Ye' aren't coming back with us this time."

"But he just said I was leaving the Pierce's. Where else am I going to go?"

Mr. Flanagan met eyes with Mr. Evans and then Mr. Pierce. "Me son, ye' are leaving the Pierce family and movin' in with the Evans family."

The room went silent. "Wait, what?" Sam asked anyone who would answer.

"Ye' heard me, Sam. Rory is movin' in with ye'!"

"That's not funny," Rory scolded, feeling as if he were being made fun of. "Mr. Pierce?"

"Rory, we have loved having you with us. We would love to have you keep staying with us. The thing is, some things are going on in our family, and we're going to need that spare room. We were going to push it back as best we could because we didn't want you to leave, but then this… opportunity came up."

"What opportunity?" Rory and Sam asked in unison.

"We've talked it over, boys, and we've made a difficult decision. Nobody here wants you to leave, but situations have come up, and we figured out a way to make it work out, so everyone wins," Sam's dad explained to two blank faced teens.

"Pick ye' jaws up, boys. Ye' gettin' exactly what ye' want," Rory's dad said.

The teens exchanged glances, then looked around the room, then back at each other.

"So Rory is going to move in here, with us?" Sam verified, as if he couldn't believe it.

"Yes, son. He spends most of his time here anyway."

"So what's the catch? There's always a catch," Sam pointed out.

"No catch, but there are going to be some rules. The first of which – Sam, you're going to have to get an after school job. Taking on another person costs money, and it's only fair that you help out with that," Mr. Evans replied.

It was Sam's mom's turn to speak up. "And since Rory can't legally work in the States, we're going to ask him to help us out with the kids. It would give me and your dad a little more personal time, make things easier on us after a long day at work."

"What else?"

"Nothing major. We'll talk to you boys about that more later. Right now, we have a few things to figure out together," Mr. Evans replied.

"We have to pack up all of Rory's things from his room at our house and bring them here," Mr. Pierce stated. "Rory, you're always welcome at our home, but we know you'll be happier with Sam. It works out for everyone, right?"

Rory nodded his head, still in shock. "Is this true? It's not a trick to laugh at me?"

"No, Rory. It's not a joke. Your new home is going to be right here," Mrs. Evans said with a smile. Rory and Sam turned to each other and hugged, Rory not even paying attention to the ache in his shoulder as he was squeezed.

 


	11. Episode 11: A New Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes:I am really happy with all the wonderful reviews. Please note that while I did do some minor research on laws and medical things, I have of course taken liberties with them to suit my story needs. A note, it is legal for a foreigner to press charges while on US soil and having had personal experiences working in a hospital for 6 years, it is entirely plausible that Rory is recovering the way he is. Things are looking up for our boys for now, but they deserve it after such a tragic week!  
> _

**Recap:**  Azimio got arrested and Rory finally got sprung from jail, er the hospital, but only after he told his family that he and Sam are a couple, and they went along with it for the most part. Now he's back home, but his family wants him to stay in the US for a while longer, and so does Sam, and it looks like their prayers were answered because now Sam's family wants Rory to move in with them and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 11: A New Home**

The three families as well as Sam and Rory spent the better part of Saturday moving Rory's things from Brittany's house to Sam's. Sam began to wonder if they had thought the situation through all the way, because the Evans' had no spare bedroom. Stacy and Stevie were too old to share a room anymore, so the only option was for Rory to room with Sam.

At first, Sam offered to sleep in the floor or on the couch, citing that Rory needed to be comfortable so he could get better. Mr. and Mrs. Evans, however, agreed that it was acceptable for them to sleep in the same bed, as long as they kept things PG and wore pajamas.

 _My god, it's like they want us sleeping together!_ Sam thought.

While the idea of living together was great, it also meant Sam would have to make room for Rory in his home. He needed to share closet space, a bathroom, electronics, everything. It wasn't a far stretch – after all, they had lived with all five of them in a small motel room for over a month just a year prior.

"Sam, honey, be sure to make room in the medicine cabinet. He needs a place to hide his drugs," his mother reminded him. He had some painkillers and vitamins and for some reason it amused her to constantly refer to him as 'having drugs' despite the fact they were perfectly legal.

"Yes, mom. I know," Sam said, only half annoyed. "And clear out space for toiletries and put an extra towel out, and I'm sure there was something else."

His mom popped into the bathroom door and grinned. "I'm sorry honey, I'm just excited."

He paused and turned around to face her, his own grin plastered on his face. "I know mom. I'm just nervous."

"What for? He's your boyfriend, what's to be nervous about?"

Sam gave his best "Aww shucks" impression. "I guess I just don't want him to be disappointed. It's different living together. He gets to see all my bad habits and stuff."

"That's how you know real love, dear. If you can stand each other on your worst days, and still say those three little words at the end of the day, then you know it's real. You can only fake it but so far. I think this will be healthy for you both."

"You think so? What about the kids? What are they gonna think? What are you gonna tell them?"

Sam's mom smiled wider than she had before, which seemed almost impossible since she was already grinning from ear to ear. "They adore Rory. They'll love him being here. They know you're friends, they won't think anything of him staying here."

"Mom, I think Stacy knows something is going on, though."

"Maybe she does, but you're her big brother. She adores you more than anyone in the world. You're the coolest person to exist, and she admires you in so many ways. If she knows, and she sees that her big brother isn't afraid to be himself, and isn't afraid to love who he wants, then she'll grow up to do the same thing, just to be like big bro," his mother said.

"What about Stevie?"

She chuckled. "Stevie will go along with whatever you want him to. He probably doesn't understand the concept of two men in love, but he knows you're friends, and that you're loyal to each other. That's all he really needs to understand. Do you even realize, Sam, how much your siblings look up to you?"

"Yeah mom, I do. That's why I worry. I don't want to disappoint them, either."

"Well I think as far as those two are concerned, Sammy can do no wrong. You know, for the most part, they're right. That's why we are okay with this arrangement. We feel you're mature enough to handle it. Maybe that maturity will rub off on them." She hugged her son and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the bathroom and going about her business.

-ooo-

Rory arrived around four with all of his belongings in tow, majority of which was clothing. The three fathers moved the bags inside, but it was up to the boys to unpack everything.

"We can just leave everything in the bags if you want to. I can just rummage through them when I need to," Rory offered, not wanting to impose on Sam's closet space.

"Oh bullcrap. You're my roommate now, you get your own closet space and drawer space," Sam argued. Rory was about to protest out of politeness, but Sam started unpacking anyway. He sat on the bed, unpacking his bag that had all of his personal belongings that weren't clothes related.

Sam took out a slew of hangars and started putting shirts and pants on them, stuffing them in the closet next to his own. When he turned around he saw that Rory was unpacking a game system.

"You never told me you have a Wii!" Sam exclaimed.

"I didn't think about it. I was always over here with you," Rory admitted. "Well, I have a Wii. The secret is out."

"Smartass," Sam said, poking him playfully in the side. He plopped down next to him and picked up his notebook of games. "Let's see what you got here…" He thumbed through the pages, making random noises of approval.

He set down the notebook and went back to unpacking. There still wasn't room for everything, so the rest he folded and placed in a neat stack at the bottom of the closet.

"I only have the one desk, but we have a tray table I can bring in here for you to use if you want," Sam said, putting the boy's laptop next to his own computer. A half hour later, they had everything put away, and Sam hooked up the Wii to his TV set.

They were about to play when his mom knocked on the door. "Boys, me and your father are going to pick up Stacy and Stevie. We'll be back around nine probably, depending on the traffic. It takes a couple hours each way."

"Okay, mom. We'll find something to eat," Sam replied. She looked like something was troubling her, however. "Mom, what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just my little boy is growing up." She gave them a half-smile. "Ya'll are gonna stay in tonight, aren't you?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess so. Why?"

"I would just feel better knowing you were home safe. Until they catch those other two boys that were involved."

"Wait, what?" Sam cried. "They're out?"

Mrs. Evans waved her arms. "Oh no, Azimio Adams is still detained, but he won't tell who those other two boys were, so they haven't found them yet."

Rory looked nervous. She gave him a comforting smile. "Oh don't worry dear. They'd be smart not to fuck with the Evans and the Flanagans."

"MOM!" Sam exclaimed. "Don't talk like that!" Rory's eyes were wide, stunned by the unexpected expletive.

"You and your father aren't the only ones who know those words. I was your age once, too." She laughed and left the room giggling like a schoolgirl.

Rory turned to Sam and said with the most serious expression, "I will never look at your mammy the same way again."

"Neither will I," Sam chuckled, and then kissed Rory on the forehead.

"What are we going to do for dinner? We could have sandwiches if you want," Rory asked.

Sam looked indecisive. "Aren't you sick of sandwiches and chips or crisps or whatever you call them?"

"Kind of, but I don't want to be picky, either."

"Well I promised to make you some good food once you were out of that medical prison, and now that you're here, I think we need to celebrate your first night in your new home," Sam said. "You sit in here and play video games for a while, I'll come get you when dinner is ready."

"You're going to cook?"

"Yep. You liked my southern breakfast didn't you? Now I'll cook you a good old southern style dinner. Sit tight for a while. Want me to bring you something to drink for now?"

Rory nodded his head and requested a glass of cold fruit punch. At Sam's instruction, he sat back on the bed and started playing a game on Sam's Xbox. His other half, in the meantime, ventured into the kitchen where he started taking out various ingredients for his dinner plan.

About an hour later, Sam came to retrieve his new roommate. Refusing to use the walker, which he dubbed 'wheelie legs', Sam helped him limp to the dining room where he had set up a very cozy dinner layout.

Sam brought out a plateful of food for each of them – baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, and green beans. He set down a glass of soda for Rory and fruit juice for himself, and then a bottle of wine.

"We're going to get drunk?" Rory asked skeptically.

"Ha! No, not at all. Not off a glass of wine. It was already open, so nobody will notice if some is gone. I just wanted to be corny and toast to you," Sam explained, pouring them each a small glass of wine.

As they held up their glasses, Sam made a cheesy little speech. "To your quick recovery, and welcome to your new home. And to life in prison for Azimio Adams." They clinked their glasses and took modest sips of the dark red liquid.

Both of them made screwed up faces. "Oh god, that's really disgusting," Sam said. Rory agreed, both of them laughing. The pair went on to eat their meal, the younger boy doting over how great it tasted in its simplicity.

"I'm gonna do the dishes real quick. Mom would have a fit if she came home to a mess. I'll be back to the room in a few minutes." Rory returned to playing his game, his tummy filled and happy.

"Thank you for dinner, Sammy. It was really good," Rory complimented. "You're a good cook. Did you learn from your mother?"

Sam nodded his head. "Yeah, and my dad. He actually taught her, come to think of it. What about you?"

"When it comes to cooking, I am as useless as a chocolate teapot. My mam does all the cooking in my house."

Sam put in a movie and they sat on the bed, cuddling until they heard the front door open, the two kids running inside excitedly. They didn't even knock on the door as they ran into the room.

"Mr. Rory! Mom said you're gonna live with us!" Stacy squealed. She jumped up on the bed and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him.

"Be careful, guys. He's still recovering from his accident," Sam cautioned.

"You were in an accident Mr. Rory?" Stacy asked, suddenly concerned, looking him over.

Not wanting to upset either sibling, Sam decided to simply put it off as an injury he got in gym. It wasn't really a lie – the incident did happen in the gym, and he had been playing basketball. They just didn't need to know he had been attacked by another student.

"Mom said you're gonna watch us after school," Stevie said. "You're gonna play outside with us, right?"

"Once I can, yes, I'll play with you. No basketball, though, okay?"

Stevie made a twirling motion with his finger. "I don't like basketball. I wanna play football and soccer."

"I think I can handle that. Did you know I played football back in Ireland?" Stevie suddenly seemed to find Rory twice as cool as before, not realizing that Irish football was the name for American soccer. At least he liked both.

Stacy started to gently poke and prod the boy, looking for signs of injury. "Where are you hurt, Mr. Rory? I'll make it all better."

"My shoulder, and my leg, and my nose. See?" He pulled his shirt down to shower her the scar. She opened her mouth in awe and then leaned over and kissed it.

"All better!" she exclaimed. "Your nose looks okay, though. A little purple, like make up." She leaned forward and kissed him on the tip of his nose, again proclaiming that he was 'all better.'

"You can't see where my leg is hurt. It's inside," he told her. She kissed her hand and planted it right on his leg, claiming that while she liked him, she wasn't kissing his leg. They shared a laugh and he thanked her for her magical kisses.

Sam hugged them both and sent them off to bed, promising to hear all about their vacation in the morning.

"She is the cutest thing I ever saw," Rory stated. "And it looks like your brother is finally starting to like me."

"They can be a couple of little monsters when they want to, though. You'll see once you start babysitting them."

The younger teen shrugged. "We'll have fun I'm sure. For now, I'm really tired. Can we go to sleep?"

Sam smiled at him. "Yeah. Let me grab your PJ pants for you." He got up off the bed, went to the dresser and fished out a pair of pants for each of them. "They never said we had to wear shirts," he grinned, anxious to see the boy's bare chest again. He turned out the light and crawled in next to him, kissing him before they fell asleep.

-ooo-

The next morning after breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Evans went over the rules they expected the boys to abide by if they were going to be living together.

"First of all, neither one of you will be falling behind in school. We expect your grades to remain constant or better," Sam's dad declared.

"Actually dad, Rory has been helping me with my reading. We read a book together over break even," Sam pointed out.

"Good. Maybe you can get over that dyslexia someday. Your grandfather managed, and you'll probably need to help Stevie, I can see signs of it already. Back to school, I want you in bed by eleven on school nights," his dad added.

Sam inquired about his requirement to work, to which his father answered that he needed to get something as soon as possible. Part time, after school. Sam already had the pizza delivery job when they lived in Lima the first time, so that shouldn't be a problem.

"Rory, you're going to be babysitting after school. Help the kids with their homework, give them a snack, keep them from tearing up the house. I'll give you a run down on what they can and can't have and can't do. We may need help with some other chores at times too," Mrs. Evans explained to the younger teenager.

"What about weekends?" Sam asked next. "Do we get a reprieve?"

Sam's dad laughed. "Your freedom, son, depends on what your part time job dictates. Rory, we might need you to watch the kids now and then but mostly weekends are yours."

"If you need a ride somewhere and Sam isn't able to, just ask and we can try and work something out. I know there will be times you want to do something when he isn't here," Mrs. Evans offered.

"Thank you," Rory replied. "This sounds fair. I think we can heed your rules, don't you, Sam?"

Sam nodded. "Sure thing. Doesn't sound bad at all."

"One more thing, boys. You're teenagers. I'm not stupid, I was your age once, I know how it goes. I'm going to say there is to be no monkey business in this house, but if there ever was any monkey business, I just don't wanna know about it, catch my drift?" Mr. Evans said.

"Why would we be selling monkeys? Is that legal? Wouldn't you want the money from it?" Rory asked, completely serious.

Sam's dad was caught aback. It was obvious the boy wasn't talking back or being smart. "Uh, Sam, is he for real?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah dad, he's for real. Remember, our sayings are different than theirs. He never heard of dodge ball or trash talk before either. Basically you just told him we aren't allowed to have a monkey selling business in the house."

"Oh, I see," his dad replied. "Well, you take care of explaining that one to him later, son."

"Will do, dad. Anything else we should know?"

Mr. Evans shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Ya'll are good boys, it's not like we got much to worry about. You are going back to school on Monday I hope you know," he added, addressing Sam, who responded by groaning loudly.

"Am I going back, too, Mr. Evans?" Rory asked timidly.

"No, not yet. We're meeting with your parents again this afternoon to discuss this legal situation. Once we figure out if you'll need to miss school for it, we can figure out when you go back. In the meantime, Sam will have your assignments for you when he comes home."

"Don't worry honey, we don't expect you to watch the kids yet. You can just rest up and get better. Work on your schoolwork, spend time with your family while they're here," Sam's mom added.

Dismissing the boys from the table, Mr. Evans kissed his wife and bid her goodbye. He was going to go pick up the Flanagans from their hotel room; ironically, the same hotel they had lived in for far longer than they wanted to think about.

Sam snuck back in the kitchen while his charge was in the bathroom. "Hey mom, you know Rory's birthday is coming in mid-February, right?"

"Oh is it? Wonderful! I hope his family will still be here," she exclaimed. "We'll have a get together, you can invite all your glee club friends. Well good, something happy to think about amidst all this crap going on."

"I think I'm gonna go job hunting after school tomorrow. I want to get a little bit of cash so I can buy him something nice," Sam commented. "I doubt his family will still be here. All this mess should be cleared up soon, and they have to leave."

"I'm so proud of you," she replied. He cocked his head sideways, wondering why she was saying that. "You're the man I knew you'd be. A true gentleman. It is a shame though that they can't be here. The magical sixteen and they won't get to see it."

Sam smiled. "Thanks, mom." He gave her a hug and hotfooted it back to his room before Rory figured out he had snuck off. He wanted him to be totally surprised when his birthday came and he had a party in his honor.  _Now what the hell am I going to get him? I don't have a whole lot of money yet and it's only a few weeks away._

-ooo-

Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan were sitting on the couch as Sam helped Rory limp to the living room and sit down.

"Me son, where is the walking aid?" his father asked.

"I don't like it, pap. It's frustrating t'use," Rory complained.

"If it is what the doctor ordered, then ye' should use it," his father replied sternly. It wasn't a question. Rory's father didn't ask questions; he gave instructions. "Ye' understand me, son?"

Rory nodded. "Yes, sir."  _He's giving me orders in front of Sam. How humiliating._

Sam sat down next to him, offering to share his glass of fruit juice. Rory waved it away, anxious to know what his parents had to say.

"Now listen, me son. We 'ave gotten a court date set in regards to ye' accident. Because it's considered a foreign affair, the court gives it higher priority. This Wednesday is the hearing," Mr. Flanagan stated.

"Am I goin' to 'ave to be in the court?" the teen asked. It wasn't so much actually being in a hearing that worried him; it was having to see Azimio again.  _I could die happy if I never 'ave to see him again the rest of me life._

Mr. Evans answered that question. "Unfortunately, yes. I tried to impress on them the situation, but it's required for you to be there. You'll have to testify."

A look of horror crossed the boy's face. "Is… he goin' to be there too?"

"Yes," Mr. Flanagan answered flatly. "Ye' gonn' t' have to testify to what he did to ye'. They 'ave the evidence, but ye' have to tell them why he did it."

"You'll basically have to tell them everything you can remember. They need to know if it classifies as a hate crime, which carries a slightly harsher punishment," Mr. Evans took over. It's rules and regulations we're dealing with here. We have to play the game to win."

"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you," Sam assured him.

Mr. Evans shook his head. "No. No you won't son."

Sam stood up, angry. "Why not! I was there! What if Azimio tries something again! I have to be there!" he shouted.

"Calm down, honey," his mother urged. He slowly sat back down, more to appease her than anything else.

"They want a written account from you, and from Mr. Schuester. Since you weren't at the scene the time the crime was committed, they have no need for you to testify in the court. They simply want you to write an account of what you saw when you arrived," his dad explained.

"That's not fair!" Sam shouted again. His mother stood behind him and rubbed his back.

"I know it seems that way, but it's how it works. They don't want any more people there than necessary. They won't let your teacher be there either," she said softly.

Sam sighed, frustrated, and feeling powerless. "Well who  _is_  going to be there?"

"Me, his dad, and Mr. Pierce," his father answered.

"Why you? You weren't there. Why Mr. Pierce?"

"Calm down, Samuel," his father said sternly. "Mr. Pierce was his legal guardian when the incident took place, and I will be there as his current legal guardian. Mr. Flanagan will be there as his parent and true legal guardian."

Eyes were all on Sam, waiting for his reaction. His father was becoming agitated with his persistent attitude, and everyone expected Sam to further interrogate him.

"Furthermore, Sam, your presence could have a negative effect. We don't want to encourage Azimio to bring up the topic of your relationship. He very well may, but we don't want to give him any ideas, and if he sees you there, it might put an idea in his head," his father added.

"This is bullshit," Sam said coldly. Angry, he got up and went to his room, slamming the door behind him. Rory was awestruck. He had never seen Sam act like that.

Rory's dad couldn't keep quiet any longer. "D'ye let the boy talk to ye' like that all the time? With so much disrespect?"

Mr. Evans shook his head. "No. He never acts like that. He rarely even swears and we haven't had an argument in years."

"In me home, we treat that kind o' behavior with a sound beatin'. They learned early on not to mouth off t'me," Rory's dad said. Rory blushed heavily, remembering the last time he had gotten in trouble when he was eleven. He couldn't sit down comfortably for days.

"It's different, sir. It's so out of character for him, it worries me more than angers me."

Mr. Flanagan quietly huffed his disapproval.

"Does anyone else here something ringing?" Mrs. Evans asked, hoping to change the topic. "It sounds like a jingle bell."

Rory giggled and then summoned his brother. "Seamus, come in 'ere please!"

Seamus bounded into the room, Stacy and Stevie close behind. Stevie immediately clung to his mother, whispering to her, wanting to know what the ruckus had been about. She simply told him that Sam was upset but that was it.

"Show Mrs. Evans your necklace," Rory told his younger brother. The boy was only a few years younger than Rory but was obviously shy. As instructed, however, he approached Sam's mother and held up a shiny silver jingle bell on a lanyard.

"Oh, well isn't that… cute, Seamus. How very festive," she said, peering at the bell. The look on her face asked the question everyone else was wanting to ask.

"I want a bell too!" Stacy said. "It's so cute!"

Nervously, Mrs. Evans asked if he wore the bell everywhere, and if it were a gift. She was making sure to phrase her question so as not to offend anyone.

"Go ahead Seamus, tell 'er about ye' bell," Mrs. Flanagan said, giving him a comforting smile.

"Me mam and pap gave it t'me' ma'am. I wear it all o'er the place," he replied.

"Oh," she said simply.

Rory laughed and decided it best to explain. "Seamus has a bad habit o' getting' lost, especially when he was real little. He would rarely answer if we called for him, so dad gave him the bell to wear, so we would hear him. Kind o' like a cow."

"Stop that, Rory!" his mother exclaimed. "Ye' know he hates that sayin'."

Seamus cut him a look of disapproval but then turned back around and grinned at Mrs. Evans. "Well, it's a very lovely bell, and it's good to know you'll never get lost. You're such a sweet boy, I would hate to think you might misplace yourself."

"Thank ye' ma'am," Seamus said, blushing a little.

"Mommy please, can I have a bell too?" Stacy begged. "I want one just like his!"

"But honey, you never get lost, you don't need a bell," she responded, hoping her daughter would drop it.

Sensing his wife's urgency to change the subject yet again, Mr. Evans ushered the children to the backyard to play. "Stevie is so excited to have another boy to play with. Sam doesn't have as much time as he used to, so he has to play with his sister and Stacy isn't very sporty."

"D' ye' need me anymore?" Rory asked to the crowd in general.

"No, me son. Ye' can go check of ye' friend, Sam," his father answered. Rory got up, careful not to put weight on his leg, using the furniture and wall to steady himself. "And don't ye' forget that walking aide, m'boy! I better see ye' using it, tis not a suggestion, ye' hear me'?"

"Yes, sir," Rory called back, finally making it to Sam's room. He knocked on the door, despite it also being his bedroom now. "Sammy? Can I come in?"

Sam opened the door and helped him limp into the room. "It's your room too, you don't have to knock." His tone was lighter, but he was still obviously upset.

"Why are ye' so upset Sammy?" the boy asked.

"Heh, your accent slipped out again. Should I call you 'me boyfriend'?" he chuckled.

Rory shook his head. "No, ye' don't need to. Just bein' around me pap, his is so strong. Ye' should 'ear me at home. I bet ye' could 'ardly un'erstand me."

"Okay, now you're exaggerating," Sam replied with a half smile.

"Maybe just a little, but it got ye' to smile. Now quit dodgin' the question and tell me, what are ye' upset for?"

Sam sighed. "I want to be there," he said flatly.

"I know. But ye' can't. Ye' heard the rules, we can't change that." Sam slammed his fist into the comforter.

"It's not fair! I should be there, to keep you safe!" Sam raised his voice. "I.. I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell at you."

"Why do ye' need to keep me safe, Sammy? Azimio can't do anything in a court room. He can't hurt me. He's done all the damage to me he can."

"That isn't the point. I feel like I should be there," Sam argued. Rory put his hand on Sam's back.

"Sammy, ye' can't keep me safe from e'erything. Things happen that we can't control. Sometimes we 'ave to face things on our own. I 'ave to be brave. Ye' would want me to be brave, wouldn't ye'?"

_He has a good point. I still don't like it. I don't want him to sit in that cold courtroom with a mean judge looking down at him, all judgmental because he's gay. Maybe it will be a woman. They are usually more sympathetic._

"Ye' lack of reply means ye' know I'm right. It means a lot that ye' want to go so badly. But I'll be fine," Rory assured him. "I love you, Sammy."

"I love you too. I guess that's why it bothers me, not being there."  _I'm gonna be such a mess all day. I won't concentrate, all I'll be doing is worrying all day long. My luck and I have a test that day or something._

Rory smiled, leaning his head on Sam's shoulder. He then started to sing, playfully, some of the song Kurt and rewritten for him back when they were discussing duets.

_My Sam he is so magical_

_Hard abs, thick lips, so kissable_

_Hard to resist so touchable_

_Too good to, deny it_

_Ain't no big deal he is myyy ma-a-a-an_

_I kissed this boy, and I liked it_

_I kissed this boy, glad I tried it_

_It felt so right_

_It felt so good_

_I guess I'm in love tonight_

_I kissed this boy, and I liked it._

_I liked it._

As he finished his verses, he tickled him on the belly, his soft fingers sending shivers through Sam's abdomen.

"You are too funny. That's cute, I like it," Sam complimented, chuckling.

"Is that a smile I see on ye' face?" Rory teased, tickling his sides. "C'mon, let me see that cute smile o' yer's. Let's see it trouty mouth," Rory continued. "Fishy face, trouty mouth, guppy gums, froggy lips."

"Stop that!" Sam scolded playfully. "I am not a fish or a frog!" he poked Rory in the side, making him giggle like a little girl. "There, a taste of your own medicine!"

Rory fell on his back and the pair kept tickling one another, the amusement causing him to ignore the slight pain in his shoulder muscles. He had been so lucky – the knife just barely missed a major artery.

"I'm goin' t'go fishin'! Goin' to catch me a trouty mouth!" Rory went on. Sam silenced him, however, as he hovered over him and leaned down for a kiss. What started as a simple peck on the lips quickly turned into passionate kissing, Rory reaching up to run his fingers through Sam's hair on the back of his head.

"I make fun o' ye'r mouth, but ye' have the sexiest lips I e'er saw," Rory said, stopping for air for only a moment. He pulled him back down for more kissing, his other hand rubbing Sam's side.

Finally tiring out and needing a break, Sam sat up on the side of the bed and pulled Rory up next to him. "Thank you, I needed that."

"So, ye' be okay when I'm at court, ye' hear? I'll be brave, just like ye' would."

-ooo-

Sam woke up from a nap around four, hearing something coming from the living room. It was people talking, but he couldn't understand a word of it. Curious, he cracked the door and listened, trying to figure out who was talking.

It was Rory and his father, speaking in their native language, and they were arguing about something. Well, as close to arguing as Rory's father would tolerate.

" _Pap, ye' have t'understand, this wasn't something I planned. It just happened,"_  Rory said calmly.

" _Me son, ye' know this is against the Catholic teachin's. Ye' could be excommunicated if the wrong people found out,"_  his father countered.

" _I thought ye' were fine with this, like ye' said at the hospital. Why are ye' changing ye' mind now?_ " Rory asked next. Both of them were speaking rather fast, Sam only catching the words "pap" and "Catholic."

" _I'm not the happiest about it, but there is nothin' I can do about it either. Ye' me son and I love ye', but this is still hard for me to comprehend. I'm concerned about ye' position in the church, and I just want t'understand ye'. I want t'understand me son, but I don't know how or the right questions t'ask."_ His father was visibly distraught, but Sam couldn't tell why.

" _I'm sorry, pap. I don't know how to explain it all meself either. It just kind o' happened."_

" _Tell me, son, how, how do ye' suddenly want to be with a man? Ye' always showed an interest in girls before,"_ his father asked.

Rory shrugged his shoulders, feeling defeated by his own confusion.  _"All I can tell ye' pap is that when I_ _got here, I didn't 'ave too many friends. When I heard that Sam Evans had returned to the school, I saw a chance to make a friend. We started spending a lot o' time together, and at some point, emotions arose that neither one o' us understood."_

 _Whoa, they're talking about me,_  Sam thought.  _What could they be saying? Damn why can't they speak in English?_

" _How d'ya know ye' don't like girls anymore? Ye' never been with one, 'ave you?"_  Mr. Flanagan asked.

" _No, sir. I've ne'er even kissed a girl. I don't thi_ _nk… I don't think that girls aren't an option, it just so happens that I wanted someone who happened t'be a man. I don't think it's a choice who we fall for, it just happens,"_  Rory tried to explain.

" _Aye, I suppose that is fair. I love ye' mother, I didn' choose to feel that way about her, it just happened to me'. I guess I can accept that is the same with ye'."_

Rory smiled at him. It wasn't often he and his father had deep conversations. It wasn't that he didn't care, it just wasn't common. Most of their conversations revolved around school and superficial things.

" _Pap? Are you disappointed in me'?"_  Rory asked, his voice quiet and nervous. His father leaned forward and put his hand on his shoulder.

" _Me son, I could ne'er be disappointed in ye'. Ye'r a great man, a brave man. Ye' came to America on ye'r own, all by ye'self. Ye' went to a strange place and made friends. Ye' were brave to leave home so young, to do something ye' wanted to do. Ye' were brave t'feel for someone and not be afraid o' who ye' are, no matter what anyone else thought. Ye' made choices and ye' handling the results. Only a real man coul' do that."_

Rory wanted to cry he was so happy to hear his father say that.  _"Pap, that'_ _s exactly what Sam said."_

Mr. Flanagan looked his son in the eyes, and asked the most important question he could think to ask.  _"Me son, answer me this. Do ye' love him? Sam, do ye' love him with all ye'r heart?"_

Rory kept his eyes locked with his dad's, not even thinking about his response. It just came as natural as breathing. " _Yes, pap. I love him. I love him very much. The way ye' love mam."_

" _Have ye' told him, me son? Have ye' said those words t'him?"_

" _Yes, pap. I said them to him, and he said them to me. And we both meant the words, pap."_

Mr. Flanagan looked pleased. It was apparent that he was still torn, but he loved his son, and was going to do what he could to understand him and support his decision.

" _As I said in the hospital, about the eyes o'the Lord, about how the church sees it, I just wanna make sure ye' un'erstand all that is about. I know it sounds like I'm goin' against what I said there, but I'm not. I agree with ye'r Sam. The Lord taught us to love, and we should honor love however it may come. As long as ye'r heart is right with the Lord, then I cannot go against the Lord and his guidance o' ye'r love. Ye' un'erstand, me son?"_

" _Yes, pap. I do. Me heart is right with the Lord. I prayed to un'erstand these feelings. I prayed for guidance like I know ye' would want me to. What I felt from the_ _Lord was just as ye' said, and it made me feel better. It gave me courage to follow me feelings,"_  Rory explained.

Sam finally decided to stop eavesdropping. The only other words he understood was 'Lord' and his own name.

A few minutes later, Rory returned to their room, his eyes watered up, but a smile on his face.

"I saw you were talking with your dad. What language were you speaking anyway? Irish?" Sam asked, not wanting to let on that he had been standing there for several minutes, listening in on something he couldn't even understand.

"Irish Gaelic. It's the language of me country. Me pap is better expression himself in Gaelic. Well, and he wanted to talk in private I guess," Rory answered. Suddenly Sam felt guilty for eavesdropping. It wasn't the conversation, it was the intimacy between father and son, a moment that he shouldn't have watched.

"So I guess you're not gonna tell me what you talked about, huh?"

Rory shook his head. "No, Sam. I wanna respect that he wanted it to be between us. But I will say that now we have a better understanding o' each other."

"Good, I'm glad. It must be tough, coming from a religious family like that. Once again, you're my brave man for facing your family. I'm proud of you," Sam said, hugging the teen.

"Now if only I could get him to stop bothering me about this walking aid," Rory chuckled.

Sam grinned. "You know, I do have a harder time understanding you now that your accent has gotten so heavy. I have to really listen hard. I can barely get your dad or mom, and Seamus, well, no hope there."

"It'll fade again once they leave for home. It won't be gone, but ye' will un'erstand me again."

"Good. I'd hate to think I missed something important."

"Well un'erstand this, Sam Evans. I love ye', with all me heart. I don't regret anything," Rory declared happily.

"I love you, too, Rory Flanagan. My brave, brave Irishman," Sam replied. He pushed Rory onto his back on the bed and crawled over top of him, kissing him intensely. They kissed for seemingly forever, but never did their hands travel. They were kisses of intimacy, not kisses of arousal or desire for physical pleasure. It was about feeling close, and loved.

They spent the rest of the afternoon laying next to each other in the bed, having quiet conversation about what was going to happen come the day of the court case. It made Sam feel a bit better knowing that Rory was going into it with confidence and a cool head. Now if only everything ran smoothly and Azimio got what he had coming to him.


	12. Episode 12: Truth and Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes:We're mid-season in the fic now and things are wrapping up with Azimio, so what's next for our boys? Don't forget, we have regionals, nationals, prom, spring break, graduation, end of school year & Rory's return home (or will he?). Still plenty to come, in case you were worried._

**Recap:**  Rory moved in with Sam and they got the law laid down for them. Plans were made regarding the court case, but Sam wasn't happy with it until Rory made him feel better. Rory had a long conversation with his dad who was trying to understand him and his relationship with Sam and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 12: Truth and Consequences**

Monday came, and reluctantly, Sam returned to school. He wasn't completely comfortable leaving Rory home alone, but the boy insisted he was fine, and that his parents were coming to spend some time with him. Appeased, Sam went to class in a better mood than when he woke up.

Having been gone for a week, and the way the rumor mill at McKinley was, Sam was swamped with inquiries about the incident; what many were calling 'the attempted murder.' It was the drama of the whole thing that interested majority of the people outside of the glee club, not concern for Rory, and that's what irritated him the most.

At lunch, he sat with Mike, Tina, Kurt and Blaine as usual, but Rachel and Finn decided to join them, wanting to hear the latest.

"You know most of it through text messages and stuff. There isn't much else to tell," Sam said, biting into his ham sandwich.

"How does he look, though? Is still purple?" Tina asked, a mental image of Rory as Violet Beaureguarde from  _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_  popping into her head.

"No. He's healed up pretty good. His face is tender, but pretty much back to its regular color." Sam pulled out his phone and pulled up the photo album. There was a picture of Rory, smiling, albeit tired looking and his face just a shade darker than normal.

He passed the phone around, then changed pictures to one of the two of them sitting together on the bed, his arm around Rory, both of them grinning.

"Aww you look so cute!" Tina cooed.

"I bet that scar makes him look pretty bad ass," Mike said. "You got a picture of that?"

"Nah. He can show you himself. It doesn't look too bad."

"Can he sing okay? I mean with his nose all messed up?" Kurt asked next.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, he can sing. A little nasal sounding, but not too bad. He sang to me yesterday."

"That's adorable," Blaine commented. "That boy is just so perfect for you."

"He really is!" Kurt added before Sam could reply. "He has that need to be protected and fawned over just like girls, but he has all the greatness of a man."

"Okay you did not just call him a girl, right?" Tina verified, missing his analogy.

Kurt shook his head quickly. "No! What I mean is that Sam's bisexual, and you see what kind of girls he likes. Ones like Quinn, that have a need to feel loved and protected. I think Rory fills a similar role, that's all."

"He fills the role but is still a man," Blaine clarified. "It's where a lot of people get mixed up – they think that one is the guy and one is the girl, but that's not how it works."

"So how does it work?" Mike asked, who as a straight man had no clue on how gay relationships really worked.

"Look at them, Mike. Kurt and Blaine are both pretty feminine, but Sam and Rory are the opposite. Sort of," Tina answered.

Blaine and Kurt shared a laugh. "You kind of have the idea, Tina. It's a little more complex than that," Kurt said.

"Actually it's rather simple," Blaine argued. "All four of us like guys. Some of us enjoy activities, dress like, or do things that are stereotypically attributed to women or femininity. Some of us so things, dress, and act stereotypically attributed to men or masculinity. It's all about stereotypies."

"Makes sense," Mike replied, stuck in deep thought.

"Can I ask something really personal?" Finn piped up out of nowhere, a look of pure confusion on his face.

"Sure, go ahead," Sam said.

Finn stumbled for the right words. "So if there isn't a girl role, how uh, how do you decided which one of you, uh you know, which one… does what the girl does?"

"Real mature, Finn," Rachel scolded.

"It's a valid question," Blaine offered. "You mean how do we decide who receives and who gives?"

Finn nodded his head slowly. "Yeah. I mean, with a guy and a girl it's kind of obvious, but when you got two guys and all… wait, do I really want to know this?"

"You do know that some guys don't even do that, right?" Kurt asked, looking at Blaine. Obviously they didn't participate in such an activity. It was only recently that they even saw each other naked and fondled one another.

"It's just one of those things you discuss while you're thinking about actually doing anything at all. Sometimes you both want to take turns and sometimes neither one is interested. That's why you have communication," Blaine explained.

"Okay, well, that's all I need to know then. Sorry I asked," Finn hurried. Curiosity could lead to finding out more information than really desired. It freaked him out enough just the very idea of Sam Evans doing stuff with a dude, let alone knowing  _what_  he was doing.

Rachel finally asked the question that was on everyone's mind but nobody else dared ask. "So what are you going to do when it's time for him to go back to Ireland?"

The air went silent. A pin drop could have been heard as they eagerly watching Sam for an answer, a reaction, anything.

"I… we don't know. Every time I bring it up, he doesn't want to talk about it," Sam replied sullenly.

"You only have a few months left. You're gonna have to talk about it eventually, whether he wants to or not," Rachel said. "I think the next time you bring it up, just keep pressing it. Make him talk about it. You have to face the fact that decisions will have to be made."

"She's right, Sam. You might just have to force him to talk," Kurt agreed.

Sam looked sad. He didn't want to  _make_  him do anything. He had been through enough.

Wanting to change the subject, Tina asked about the courts.

"There's a trial or hearing or whatever you call it on Wednesday," Sam replied.

"Is he going to have to take the stand?" she asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Yeah, he's going to have to get up there, in front of who knows how many people, and tell them everything that happened."

"At least you'll be there to support him," Rachel interjected.

Sam shook his head. "No, I won't. I'll be here, stuck worry all day. My dad said they only want people directly involved, and since I didn't see anything but the aftermath, they just want an essay. The same for Mr. Schue, too."

"What? They won't let you be there? But you found him! You were with him! That's not fair!" kurt screeched.

"Yeah tell me about it. I stormed out of the room and everything."

"That's not like you to be so dramatic," Mike added.

"I was upset. Of course I was dramatic," Sam replied harshly.

Mike held up his hands in defense. "I'd be upset too."

"Is Azimio going to be there?" Kurt asked. "He gives me the creeps. I think he's worse than Karofsky."

"Yeah, Karofsky never stabbed you. He just pushed you a lot," Finn offered.

"He's gonna be there. If Azimio knows what's good for him, he won't so much as look in Rory's direction," Sam threatened.

"It's a court room. He'll be plenty safe. Are they going to call you after?" Rachel inquired.

"That or a text message. I don't know why I can't at least stay home. I can't concentrate for shit all day long. I'm just gonna be thinking about it nonstop," Sam answered.

The rest of the lunch period was spent with his friends trying to convince Sam that everything would be okay, that Azimio would 'get his,' and that Rory would be okay. He couldn't stop wondering,  _How is Rory going to react when he sees that bastard again?_

-ooo-

"How was ye'r first day back?" Rory asked Sam when he got home from class.

"Just riveting," Sam answered sarcastically. He kissed Rory as he tossed his backpack on the bed. "It was disgusting how many people just wanted the dish to be nosy, not because they cared."

"I expected that," Rory replied. "The school is full o' gossip. At least I know the glee club cares."

Sam nodded his head and smiled. "Yeah, yeah they do. They all asked about you, wanted to know how you were looking, feeling, even how you were handling it emotionally. Puck even offered to hunt down Azimio and kick his ass for you."

"It's nice to know I have so many friends," the teen said. He stood up and started to limp toward the door.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Bathroom. Nature calls, can't keep it waiting."

"Where's your walker? You're not ready to-" Sam began, but Rory cut him off.

"I don't need it. I'm fine on me own. I've been getting up all day."

"Even with your father here?" Sam verified. Rory shook his head. "Yeah I didn't think so. Use your 'walking aid' as your dad calls it."

Rory turned around, angry. "I don't need you or me pap turning me into an infant! I can manage for meself. I don't need that blasted contraption, I don't need crutches, and I don't need a leg like Forrest Gump. I am fine on me own!"

Sam's jaw hit the floor. Never had he seen Rory angry, let alone angry at him. He didn't know how to react. He just sat there, stunned, while the boy limped out the door and a few minutes later, returned.

Sam sat in the middle of his bed, cross legged, playing his football game on the Playstation. Rory sat in the chair, watching as Sam continually fumbled and missed tackles over and over. He had a concentrated look on his face, but he was obviously concentrating on something other than the game.

Rory got up and limped to the bed, crouching down behind Sam. He wrapped his arms around him and leaned his head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shoudn't 'ave yelled at ye'."

Sam shrugged, his feelings still hurt. Rory reached for the controller and gently pried it from his fingers, setting it aside.

"Sammy, please. I'm sorry. I'm just very upset. I'm so worried and scared and everyone is fussin' at me and…" he trailed off. He was breathing a little heavy, trying to hold back his emotions.

"It's okay," was Sam's simple reply. Rory slid his arms down, squeezing him tighter, burying his head in his shoulder. It only took him a moment to feel the tiny spots of dampness as the boy cried into his shirt.

Sam turned around and pulled Rory into a hug, letting him bury his face in his chest and sob quietly. He kept one hand rubbing his back, and the other going from his neck to the back of his head.

When he finally stopped crying, he sat up, staring into Sam's face. "I'm so sorry I yelled at ye' Sammy."

"Don't worry about it. I know you have a lot on your mind. Let some of it out. Tell old Sammy your troubles," Sam said, making his voice sound like a psychiatrist.

Rory chuckled, feeling better already. "Ye' always make me smile, Sammy. I'm sorry. Ye' know I love ye'."

Sam leaned forward and kissed him again, lifting his chin with his fingertips. "Come on, get it off your chest. You'll feel better."

"It's nothing new. Just the court hearing, pap fussin' at me to use that cursed walking aid. Ever'one telling me to be careful, not to stress. Doing ever'thing for me. It makes me feel like a baby. My leg is feeling better ever'day. I can walk with something to steady on but nobody wants to let me try. Nobody wants to let me try and do anything but stay in that bed, being miserable," Rory explained.

"I didn't realize it was that bad. I guess we all just love you too much," Sam said, feeling sappy.

"I just want to get better. I can't do that if I stay in the bed off me feet all day."

Sam traced his fingertips over Rory's face, as if trying to memorize its shape like a blind person would. When he got to his lips, Rory opened his mouth just tiny bit to suck in his fingertip. Sam contemplated taking it further, encouraging the boy to enjoy sexual release, but his conscience kicked in and pointed out to him that Rory needed to talk, not orgasm.

Sam let his finger drop, leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips before urging him to talk some more. "You have so much on your mind. So much has happened to you. And nobody is really listening, are we?"

Rory hung his head, feeling guilty for making Sam feel guilty. "We're all just telling you what to do. How we think you should get better, how we think you should recover. But none of us are listening to how you feel," Sam said softly, realizations coming to him. "Nobody has asked how you feel, inside."

Rory didn't look up. He just kept staring at his lap. Sam had hit the nail right on the head. He felt Sam's hand touch his cheek, urged him to lift his head and look at him.

"Tell me. Tell me everything you feel. Get it out, because I've done a shitty job of listening, but now I'm all ears. My undivided attention is yours," Sam assured him, picking up his cell phone and turning it off, and glancing over to make sure the door was locked. "No interruptions. Just talk."

"I don't know where to start. O' what t'say," Rory admitted. Sam just smiled at him, his million dollar smile that could melt his heart every time he saw it.

"Don't start anywhere. Just let out words. Whatever pops in your head, just say it out loud. It doesn't even have to make any sense, or in any order, or even in English. I just want you to say what's on your mind and know that I am listening to every word, whether I understand it or not." It was with those words that Rory knew without a doubt that Sam was the only person in the world that he ever wanted to be with.

"Come on, give me some word salad," Sam urged.

Still not knowing where to truly start, Rory decided to do just as Sam said, and to start saying out loud whatever was in his head. "I'm scared o' Azimio. O' seeing him in that courtroom. I don't want to see his ugly face, or his cold eyes. I don't want to see his reaction."

Sam had assumed just as much. It would be horrifying to have to face someone who had just committed such a violent crime against himself. "I'm afraid I'll look up and see him smilin', just grinnin' away like a… like a crazy person. I'm afraid if I look at him, that it will all come back to me. I'm afraid o' 'aving to relive the ordeal."

Sam reached out and held Rory's hands, but didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what to say even if he did, but this wasn't his time to talk.

"I'm scared he'll get away with it. I'll listen for the judge and he'll say Azimio isn't guilty, that he can go free, and then I'll be runnin' away from him the rest o' my time here," Rory continued. He began to choke on his words, his accent thickening even more as he stressed.

"My pap, we had a long talk about me. About us. He wanted to un'erstand, it makes no sense to him why I'm this way. I don't even un'erstand why I'm like this. Liking men. It's supposed to be wrong, isn't it? It's what our religion teaches us. For a man to love a man, it is a sin. But here I am, purposely living in sin, without remorse for it."

The boy was confused for certain, and a thousand things came to Sam's mind that he wanted to say to comfort him, but he remained silent as promised.

"The thing is, Sam, it doesn't feel wrong. When I'm with ye', I feel happy. I feel safe. I ne'er feel anything but love. So how can it be wrong? How can the Lord say it's wrong for me to love ye'? If I'm not right with the Lord, there won't be any salvation for me. But…"

Sam was a Christian, but he had never given so much thought to the idea of sin and salvation when it came to loving another person; whether it be Quinn, or Rory, or anyone else. It seemed wrong to him to challenge love.

"I guess the question is, am I willing to live in sin and give up salvation for love? It isn't fair to make me choose. Love, or misery. It isn't much o' a choice, but it's one I have to make, isn't it? Please Sam, tell me I'm not wrong for loving ye'."

Sam simply smiled at him again, his eyes softened and peaceful. He didn't want to argue religion, but Rory was desperately asking for his opinion.

"Ror, I think that, if you love someone, God doesn't care who it is. God says to love everyone, and to me, that sounds like a pretty tall order. I don't think that God would tell you love of any kind is wrong. I think if someone says it's wrong to love someone else, they're just afraid. They're afraid they might actually have love for someone they didn't expect to, or that they will have to have a response to it, or there are consequences. If God made us in his image, and God wants us to love, then what else is there that we need to know? Or maybe it's all just bullshit and I am desperately searching for any reason to make you feel comfortable to be with me," Sam replied.

"Sam, do ye' ever wonder why… why we're together? What made things happen the way they did?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Well, okay, yes and no. At first I didn't get it, but what's strange is that instead of trying to convince myself that it was a phase, or that I was feeling something wrong, or whatever; instead I just asked Blaine to tell me what he thought about it. Instead of pushing it away, I kind of welcomed it."

"So ye' weren't afraid?"

"Ha, of course I was afraid! I was scared of what everyone else would say or do if they knew, but I wasn't afraid of… being. And I was afraid of… I was afraid that when I started to feel something for you, that maybe you might not feel it back.  _That_  scared me," Sam admitted for the first time. "What about you? What was your whole take on this from the start?"

Rory shrugged but gave a half-smile as he did so. "I… I didn't know what was goin' on. I was a virgin, ne'er even snogged a girl. The thing is, I didn't ask a whole lot o' questions either when I started to feel somethin' for ye'. I just knew that for some reason I felt anxious to be around ye', I felt excited to be near ye', and I had the strangest fascination with ye'r lips. When I saw them, I kept thinkin' about what it would be like to kiss them, and then when things started to happen, I was happy to find out. I didn't resist it, I just wanted it to happen."

"It sounds like we sort of had the same feelings then. We never had them before, but when we did, we didn't run away, but instead just went for it," Sam said. He leaned back a little, staring at the ceiling. After a moment he smiled wide. "You know, I'm glad we didn't run away. I'm glad things happened between us. I think it was meant to happen. I don't know if I would have ever felt for another guy, or if I ever will again, but I know that I love you, and you're handsome, and everything I want, and I have no complaints, so why worry about it?"

"I like the way ye' think, Sammy. Ye' try to keep it simple. So ye' think that even though the church says we aren't right with the Lord, as long as we love, and pray to him ourselves, that ev'rything is going to be okay?"

"Yes. I never liked the idea of a middle man anyway, and that's what church is. If you wanna talk to God, you just do it. You don't wait until Sunday, or bedtime prayers. I think we're closer to the right idea than anyone." Never before had Sam thought he would be having a religious conversation with someone, let alone try to convince someone that they were okay with the Lord and that even He would accept and love someone who was willing to love another person.

Rory laid down on his side, placing his head in Sam's lap. "I want to keep talking, but I want to be close to ye', like this," he said, nuzzling his head in his lap.

"Good, then keep at it. I want to hear everything you could ever have to say. Especially in that sexy accent."

For the next two hours, Sam listened intently while Rory went on and on about the things in his head. He told him about Ireland, school there, life there. He told him about growing up, and about his friends. He told him his life story, more or less, and Sam just took it all in. Rory talked about everything that popped in his head, some of it even in Gaelic.

He talked about everything, except one thing: what they were going to do at the end of the school year when he was to return to Ireland. That was something he wouldn't allow himself to think about, let alone speak about. Somehow, it seemed like if he never thought about it, never spoke about it out loud, then it wasn't real. It would never come and they would be in the school year forever, never having to let it end.

After their talk, they laid down together, watching  _Avatar_  for the billionth time until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Everything was going to be okay.

-ooo-

**Wednesday: Before Court**

Rory paced nervously in his bedroom, fiddling with his tie. No matter how many times he tried to wrap it correctly, it came out either too short or too long. His fingers were fumbling over the material, causing him to swear under his breath.

"Calm down, baby," Sam said, stopping him in his tracks. He took the material from his shaking fingers and tied it for him, standing back a few inches to observe his handiwork.

"If you keep pacing like that, your dad will catch you and have a fit." Sam patted him down as if checking for perfection. "You look so handsome."

Rory blushed just a little. Compliments always made him a little flushed. "Thank ye', Sammy."

"Okay, you have your wallet with your ID, your dad has all your other paperwork with him. You just have to go in there and answer the judge's questions. Don't say anything more than what they ask you. I watched  _Judge Judy_  once and they get mad if you give them too much information," Sam cautioned playfully.

"Oh god, Sammy, I'm so nervous. I don't wanna do this," Rory said, then he started muttering in Gaelic, and while Sam couldn't understand what he was saying, he could tell by his tone that it was utterances of worry.

Sam hugged him, shutting him up. "You'll do fine. Everything will be fine. It'll be over by lunch time and then you can come home, change into some comfy clothes, and relax."

Rory took a deep breath, kissed Sam on the mouth, then reluctantly got his walker. Sam followed him out into the hallway, backpack on his shoulder. They were leaving at the same time, but to totally opposite ends of the city.

"Son, we'll let you know as soon as we're out. I'll have him send you a text message on your phone and then you can call him on your lunch break. He's going to be fine, everything is going to be fine. He's got three of the most badass dads around guarding him," Mr. Evans said. He then lowered his voice and leaned closer to Sam so only he could hear him

"And quite frankly, I wouldn't screw around with Mr. Flanagan. He's got some serious fire in him. No wonder Rory is so well behaved. I don't even want to imagine a whoopin' from a guy like him." Sam's dad grinned, hugged his son, and then went out to warm up the car.

Mr. Flanagan shook Sam's hand, and thanked him. "Sam Evans, I just want ye' to know that it means a lot to me and me wife that ye' have stuck by his side. Ye' helped keep him safe. In my book, ye'r a right good man. Ye' made a friend o' the family for life, m'boy."

"Thank you, sir. I know you'll watch out for him today. Azimio'll get what he deserves," Sam replied with a smile. Mr. Flanagan smiled back, then held the door open while Sam followed Rory out to the car. He sat down and Sam folded up the contraption and slid it in the back seat for him. Mr. Flanagan slid into the front passenger seat and the trio got ready to leave. Mr. Pierce would be meeting them there.

Sam stood in the driveway and waved to them as they backed out, then once they were out of sight, he got into his own car and left for school.

-ooo-

**The Trial**

Rory and his entourage stood outside the courtroom door, patiently waiting for the bailiff to summon them inside.

The bailiff finally came, asking them to come through the door and sit on the right hand side of the room. Rory looked at his dad one more time, the 'deer in the headlights' look on his face.

"Be brave me son. Ye' can handle this. Be a brave man, just like Sam would want ye' to be. When we get home I want to tell him how proud he should be of ye'," his father comforted. The small group then slowly walked in – Mr. Evans in front, followed by Rory and his dad, and then Mr. Pierce. The four of them sat at a table on the right-hand side.

Next to come in was Azimio and his parents, as well as a court-appointed lawyer. Rory tried to look away from the burly student, but like a train wreck, he couldn't help but look up.

Azimio paid him no attention whatsoever. He sat down in his seat at the left-hand table and looked away as if nobody was even on the right side of the room. It seemed like forever before the bailiff announced the judge's arrival and they were allowed to be re-seated.

"Case number four-twenty-two in the matter of Flanagan versus Adams, Judge Mason presiding," the bailiff announced. The judge – Mason – was a pretty woman who looked in her mid thirties. She had the demeanor of someone who had the ability to be either very nice, or very mean. Rory recalled the little bit of advice Sam had given him and made sure to pay extra attention to every word she said.

For the first half an hour, the judge reviewed the security tape, read the written testimonies of Sam Evan and William Schuester. Azimio was silent as he listened to the testimonies of two of his biggest adversaries.

To anyone who knew Sam and his less-than-stellar skills with writing, it was obvious that he had help writing his dissertation. The language was far too proper, the thoughts organized and concise.

The judge next read aloud the character witness statements from Principal Figgins, Susan Sylvester, and Shannon Beiste. None of them were making Azimio look good, but Figgins' was the most impartial. Sue even had the nerve to write in hers that "although I don't much care for the Irish boy because I can never understand him when he speaks, Azimio is a bully who has specifically targeted the foreigner for his own perverse mental punishment. This is not the first time that Adams has targeted a creature weaker than himself, especially since he is entirely self-aware of his imposing figure." Only Sue could phrase insults and truth so elegantly in the same sentence.

"I will now hear from the plaintiff. Please come to the stand," the judge ordered. The bailiff helped Rory up to the chair, swore him in, and told him to have a seat, setting the walker aside until he was dismissed.

"Please state your name and age for the court," Judge Mason instructed.

Rory cleared his through. "Rory Flanagan, ma'am. Fifteen years old."

"Rory, I have a few questions for you, and I need you to answer them as best you can. Can you do that for me?" she asked in a confident yet friendly tone.

"Yes, ma'am."

"What were you doing before the events displayed in the surveillance tape?" the judge asked.

"I was playing basketball, ma'am."

"Alone?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You were aware that it was an American national holiday, and students were not required to attend, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered. He was about to tell her why they were there, but quickly stopped himself. It was her next question anyhow.

"I was there with a friend. He wanted to use the exercise equipment, so I wanted to practice basketball until he was finished."

"Did anyone else enter the gym at any point while you were there?"

"No, ma'am. Not before the incident."

"How did the event transpire?"

"I was playing basketball by meself, and I heard a noise. I thought it might be nothing, so I returned to me game. A moment later, I heard the door and heard his voice speaking to me," Rory answered.

The judge seemed as if she knew all of this already, but Mr. Evans had told him that it was mostly procedure, needing to be done so it was all on record.

"There is no sound on the tape, so tell me, Mr. Flanagan, did you at any point call out for help?"

"Yes, ma'am. I don't remember the order, but I know he hit me, and I called out for me friend. He was in the locker room so he may not 'ave heard me. He had been wearing earpieces when I left for the gym."

"Earpieces? For listening to music, or hearing aids?"

"Music, ma'am."

"When Mr. Adams left, do you remember anything after that?"

"Very little ma'am."

"Tell me anything you remember, Rory. Anything at all."

Rory thought for a moment, trying to focus. "I remember feeling the floor when I hit it. It was like everything suddenly turned into haze and I felt light and heavy at the same time. I remember hearing voices but not who's or what they said, just noise like on Charlie Brown."

The judge forced back a smile at the Charlie Brown reference.

"I think I felt pulling or tugging on my body, like it was trying to move me. After that, the next thing that shows up in me mind is waking up in the room after me surgery and then vomiting right away," he went on.

"I have medical records here, Rory, so I won't need you to tell me about the procedures or anything of that nature. I see you are still recovering, and according to these reports, you are recovering very well. I'm glad to see that," Judge Mason actually smiled at him.

"Now I have some more questions for you Rory. We need to understand Mr. Adams' motivations. Why would he attack you?"

Rory looked up and made the mistake of letting his eyes wander to Azimio. The boy sat there, silent, and almost dazed except for the frosted over look in his eyes. It sent chills down Rory's spine and he actually choked up for a moment.

"Bailiff Binns, if you would bring Mr. Flanagan some water, please," Judge Mason requested. The bailiff returned a moment later with a glass of cold water.

"Thank ye', sir," Rory said, taking a drink. The judge then repeated the question for him.

"I don't know why he has been choosing to be mean to me, ma'am. Since me first day at the school, people have made fun of me."

"Why did they make fun of you Rory? What did they say?"

"They made fun of me accent, me clothes. They made fun when I didn't un'erstand something."

The judge scratched her chin. It all sounded familiar to her. A new student from somewhere people weren't familiar with, being harassed by the locals for being different. "When did Mr. Adams personally join in?"

"I don't remember an exact date ma'am. But several times he threw slushies at me, called me names, other mean things. Earlier in that week, he had threatened me when Coach Sylvester caught him about to punch me."

The judge banged her gavel on the desktop, startling everyone. "This is the third case I have heard in the last year involving a slushie machine at that school, one of which was involving a student going blind from corn syrup. I will be having a meeting with the school board to have that removed. It is obviously a safety hazard."

Rory wished that Sam and the other glee club members were there to hear the judge right then. Getting the slushie machine removed would be a huge victory for them. No more slushie facials.

The judge continued to question Rory, asking him to describe any instances he could recall dealing with himself and Azimio. She asked him to describe in detail the way he had been treated in general at the school. She was up to something more than just the basic trial here – the questions were becoming less relevant to the actual case and more relevant to bullying in general.

"Thank you for your testimony, Rory. You have been very brave today, and I thank you for sharing your knowledge with us today. You mayhave a seat with your family," the judge dismissed him. The bailiff brought the walker around again and escorted him back to his chair.

"Very good me son," his father praised, placing a hand on his shoulder. Rory let out a deep breath.

"Azimio Adams, I have here your testimony and plea. If your lawyer would please address the court," Mason ordered, her voice a little thinner than when she spoke with Rory.

Azimio's lawyer stood up and spoke. "Your honor, I give the official plea of Azimio Adams, age eighteen. As signed, 'I, Azimio Adams, do hereby plead guilty on one count of assault, one count of malicious wounding and one count of trespassing.'"

 _Malicious wounding? That's like attempted murder, isn't it? That seems a bit extreme,_  Rory thought.

Rory looked at his dad, then nervously raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Flanagan?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, I don't un'erstand the term malicious wounding," he said.

"Bailiff, the dictionary if you please," judge Mason said. The bailiff provided a dictionary from seemingly nowhere, thumbed through it until he found the term, and handed it to the boy.

 _It_ is _like attempted murder, but not as bad. I don't think he wanted me dead. I think he meant to hurt me, but not to kill me. That isn't right, to accuse him of something more than he did._

"You look troubled. Is there a problem, Mr. Flanagan?" the judge inquired.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I have trouble un'erstanding. This says it is similar to murder."

"That's partially accurate. The main point here is that he is accused of and is pleading guilty to, intentially causing physical violence with a weapon with intent to disable, kill, or maim. Do you understand how that applies to this case?"

"Ma'am, all I un'erstand is that Azimio didn't murder me. I think he meant to hurt me, but I don't think he meant to kill me," Rory questioned. "I'm confused. Does that paper mean he tried to kill me?"

The judge looked confused as well. "This paper, the plea we call it, means that he admits to causing physical harm to you. He admits to almost accidentally killing you," Judge Mason answered.

"I am confused, ma'am. How can someone try to accidentally kill someone else?"

"Law, Rory, is very confusing, even to professionals." She could see there was still a lot of confusion on his face. She hit her gavel once more. "On account of the plantiff's lack of understanding, I call a short recess to confer with the plantiff in the judge's chambers. Trial shall recommence in fifteen minutes."

Azimio and his lawyer both exchanged nervous looks. Apparently this wasn't often done, if at all.

The bailiff escorted Rory to the judge's chambers, where Judge Mason met with him, and allowed him to ask questions. Exactly fifteen minutes later, both of them returned to the courtroom.

Rory had a complacent look on his face as the judge recalled the court to order.

"Mr. Adams, it seems as if someone somewhere is looking out for you. It has been requested that malicious wounding charge be reduced to unlawful wounding. While I believe that you did indeed commit a class three felony, I will honor the request and charge you with class six unlawful wounding."

Azimio's lawyer looked at the prosecution, stunned. The change in charges could be the difference between a twenty year sentence and a five year sentence, and prosecution was requesting the lesser sentence.

"All stand," the bailiff announced.

"Azimio Adams, I find you guilty by your own admission to one count of trespassing, one count of assault, and one count of unlawful wounding. Before I read your sentence, I wish to read a short statement supplied by the prosecution," Judge Mason announced.

The judge pulled out a sheet of paper from a folder, the ink just barely dry on it. She briefed over it one time, making sure she was reading the teenager's handwriting correctly, despite the fact they had just written the statement.

The judge cleared her throat, then began to read from the paper. "I, Rory Flanagan, make a formal request of the court to take into consideration the age and position of the defendant. It is my feeling that at the age of eighteen, a person still has a lifetime to make up for foolish mistakes and should be given that opportunity if possible. I would like to request that Azimio Adams be given a reasonable sentence where he may still finish his education with a chance to reform into a productive member of society."

It was obvious that the wording had all been supplied by the judge, but the handwriting and sentiments were all Rory's.

"Taking the prosecution's statement into account, I pronounce the following for your sentence, I sentence you to five years incarceration, with possibility of parole after 2 years. A high school level tutor will be provided at the expense of the defendant to finish out the school year. Age twenty two, Mr. Adams. At age twenty two you still have a world of opportunity to make something of yourself. The minimum sentence for malicious wounding was twenty years. A charge reduction and plea for lenient sentence is allowing you to still make something of your life. The court hopes you learn something and can become a valuable member of society. Court dismissed."

-ooo-

"What was that mess all about, me son?" Mr. Flanagan demanded as soon as they were in the car.

"I'm sorry, pap, but it was the right thing to do," Rory said plainly.

"The right thing? That boy in there attacked ye'! He tried to kill ye' and ye' asked the judge to go easy on him!" Mr. Flanagan was livid. He started to yell in Gaelic, a language Mr. Evans had no clue about, but the tone said it all. Rory was in trouble.

"Pap! Please listen to me! I have me reasons. Let me explain to ye'!" Rory pleaded in English. He looked to Mr. Evans for help.

Mr. Evans, a man who always liked to try and keep things at peace, politely suggested that perhaps they at least hear Rory's side.

"I talked to the judge, pap. She told me what the charges meant. Azimio would 'ave gotten twenty years at least for what he did. Part of me says he deserves every bit of it, but part of me says that if I condemn him to that, I am no better than he is." Rory spoke evenly and confidently, something that was actually rare for him when it came to talking to his father. Usually his father was in complete control of the situation, but it was obvious here that he had no control at all.

"By reducing the charges and giving him only five years, he has a chance to turn around. He has a chance to become a good person. In five years, a man can change a lot. Especially when they 'ave been in incarceration."

Mr. Flanagan was speechless. This boy had brutally attacked his son and could have killed him, yet here Rory was, coming to his defense.

"Mr. Evans, you un'erstand what I'm saying, don't ye' sir?" Rory pleaded further.

"Yeah, Rory, I do. Mr. Flanagan, your son made a tough choice. He could have had Azimio put away for a long time, robbed him of what could be the most productive years of his life. But he chose not to. He asked that he be punished, but that he still have a chance at a reformed life. That takes a lot of guts to ask a judge to do that," Mr. Evans said. He had pulled the car over to the side of the road and spoke directly to his passenger next to him.

Mr. Flanagan was silent. The car started up again and they continued back home. The entire time, what Mr. Evans said resonated in Rory's dad's head.

-ooo-

Sam was a bag of nerves all morning long. His dad had told him they should be finished by noon, but he had yet to get a text message from Rory, and noon was fast approaching.

"Hear anything yet?" Tina asked as they passed in the hall between first and second period.

"No. Not a thing," he replied sullenly.

"No news might be good news! Or maybe his phone died on him so he can't text you," she offered.

He had second period with Finn, Rachel, and Mercedes. All three of them were constantly looking over at him, looking to see if he had heard anything. By the end of the period he had still heard nothing and was becoming frantic.

"Maybe they were just running behind. If they're like the DMV, it can take all day," Mercedes suggested.

On his way to lunch he dropped his phone, sending him into yet another panic.

"Be gentle to the phone, don't hurt the phone," Artie said, rolling up to him.

"I dropped it! Now it won't do anything!" Sam said, frustrated. Artie took it from him and fiddled with it a moment until the screen came back up. It stayed on just long enough for an icon of a red battery flashed, and then turned off again.

"It's not broken. Your battery is dead. If this can survive a slushie or two, it can survive a drop from a ten story building. You've been checking it every five minutes, haven't you?"

Sam nodded his head, taking back his phone.

"Want me to text him for you?" Artie offered. Sam took him up on the offer except he couldn't remember the number. Nobody remembers phone numbers anymore, not with speed dial and contacts on phones.

Cursing himself, Sam shoved his phone in his backpack and went to the cafeteria.

"Hey, Mike, can you text Rory for me? My phone died," Sam asked urgently. Mike slipped out his phone and handed it to Sam.

"Here, go for it. Just keep the sexting to a minimum. My phone might get confused," he said. Tina blushed just a slight bit when he winked at her. "Not that we do that sort of thing."

"Riiiight," Sam said, just slightly disturbed. He pulled up Rory's number and started typing feverishly.

_Hey this is Sam, my phone died, how did it go? Get back to me ASAP. Love, Sam_

He set the phone down in front of himself, anxiously waiting for a response.

"Would you calm down and eat something?" Kurt asked, trying to get the boy to ease up a little. "Worrying won't make it happen any faster. Let's talk about Regionals coming up instead."

"Regionals is still over a month away. A little early to worry about that, isn't it?" Blaine asked.

"I'm just trying to get his mind off worrying, you're ruining my efforts," Kurt scolded playfully.

The phone started to vibrate all of a sudden.

_Hi Sammy, everything is ok, I'll talk to you when you get home. Love you, Rory_

"You let him call you Sammy?" Blaine giggled. "That's so-"

"Disgustingly cute. I love it," Kurt finished for him.

"Only Rory and my siblings get away with that. Don't even think about it," Sam declared. His declaration was useless however as the entire table referred to him as 'Sammy.' "You will all die painful deaths," Sam threatened jokingly.

His mind slightly at ease knowing everything went okay, he still couldn't simmer down, anxious to get home and hear all about how Azimio got twenty to life for vicious attempted homicide.

Sam actually ran to his car after last period, not even stopping at his locker to put his books away. He was generally a very conscientious driver, but if a cop had been sitting out waiting, he would have had Sam Evans on his list of written tickets for the day.

Pulling in the driveway, he could see that his mother wasn't home yet, which most likely meant neither were the kids. Leaving his backpack in the car, he dashed inside to see Mr. Flanagan and his father watching TV, snacking on chips (or crisps as Rory called them), and drinking beer.

"Wow son, you came in here like a bat out of hell. The sky falling?" his dad asked.

"Nope, just anxious to get the scoop on the trial. Rory in our room?"

His dad nodded his head. Sam made a beeline as his father called after him. "I think he's taking a nap!" The warning did no good – the young adult threw open the door and cried out for his boyfriend. "And now he's awake."

"Are all boys in America so dramatic?" Mr. Flanagan asked.

"No. Just my son. At least, when it comes to your boy," Mr. Evans replied with a laugh.

"I noticed he gets a wee bit emotional with me son. Was he like that with the girls, too?"

Mr. Evans shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. I mean, he was pretty stuck on Quinn Fabray. Thank god she was in the celibacy club because I sure didn't want any kids." Mr. Evans obviously had no idea the girl had carried a baby the year before his son had met her.

Mr. Flanagan didn't ask anymore questions, slightly disturbed at even the slightest hint of sex. He wasn't quite ready for  _that_  image.

Inside Sam and Rory's bedroom, the younger teen roused from his nap, wiping his eyes and groaning.

"Sammy, I don't wanna go to school today!" he whined playfully.

"Brat," Sam joked. "You're gonna get up out of that bed and go to school or I'm gonna pull down your pants and give you a right sound whippin!" He over exaggerated his southern accent and made himself sound old.

"Oh no pappy, please not that!" Rory pleaded back. He sat up on the edge of the bed, received a kiss from Sam, and then began to relay to him the events of the morning.

Out in the living room, Mr. Evans and Mr. Flanagan were still watching TV when suddenly they heard a shout.

"You did what?" Sam's voice echoed in surprise down the hall.

"Ah, looks like he just told him," Mr. Evans remarked. He muted the TV, eavesdropping like a little kid. "Shh, let's see if there's any mayhem." All they could hear, however was the faint sound of Rory's voice, calmly telling Sam why he had asked the judge to lessen the charges and the sentence.

Sam sat in his chair, his mouth agape, trying to process what Rory was telling him. Neither boy noticed the two men in the doorway.

"Ye' should be proud o' him, Sam," Mr. Flanagan said. They both turned to look at his dad. "He made a very hard choice."

"But he let him get off easy!" Sam argued, trying to keep a civil head, recalling Rory's tales of his father's disciplinary action.

"Simmer down, boy and listen to ye'r man friend," Mr. Flanagan countered.

Sam did as he was told, shutting his mouth and allowing Rory to explain himself.

"I couldn't do it, Sam. I couldn't let him go t'jail for twenty years. That's takin' away too much of his would be almost forty," Rory said.

"But Ror, he stabbed you. He beat the shi- crap out of you," Sam replied. "Don't you want him to pay for it?"

Rory nodded. "He will, Sam. Five years in the prison. His family must pay for him to finish his education, and he still has a chance at a life."

Sam opened his mouth to speak but words wouldn't come.

"Sam, he did it because he's a better person than Azimio," Mr. Flanagan said. "Azimio doesn't know how to treat someone with compassion, and forgiveness."

"He's right, Sam. People like Azimio are full of hate, anger and ignorance. Rory gave him the chance to become a better person. A lot can happen in five years. He might turn out to be a decent human being," Mr. Evans added.

"Or he might turn into a psychopathic killer," Sam replied sarcastically.

Rory looked hurt. "Can't I 'ave a little bit o' credit, Sam? I wanted to do the right thing. The human thing."

"Ye' should be proud o' him. He could 'ave just let him go to jail for twenty years but instead of showed compassion. Something I wouldn't 'ave had. I would 'ave let him go and thought nothing o' it. Ye' think I didn't try to ream 'im one? Ye' think I was happy about it? Ye' think I didn't say 'Rory, are ye' nuts? What were ye' thinkin'?' I did! But that just shows how much better o' a person he is than me. I'm proud o' em. Ye' should be too if ye' 'ave any compassion in ye'."

It was so silent a pin could have dropped and it would have sounded like an explosion.

Sam's face went blank, Mr. Flanagan's words resonating in his head.  _He's right. Rory is better than Azimio. He's better than me. I would have let him go to jail forever if I could have, without a second thought. But Rory had mercy on him. He should be the one who is most angry, full of vengeance, wanting payback. He's sitting right in front of me, trying not to cry because he thinks I'm pissed at him. What the hell am I thinking?_

"Sam? You okay, son?" his dad asked, wondering he was stunned by being given a huge eye opener by Rory's father.

Sam just breathed out, the words leaving his mouth at the same time. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Rory I'm so sorry. Your dad's right. I should be proud of you instead of yelling at you. I just… I want you to be safe."

Rory's hurt look turned into a smile. "I am safe, Sam. He's away for five years. And I 'ave you." Mr. Evans and Mr. Flanagan looked at each other and smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie.

"Maybe we should let them be. It's their first argument, they might be in shock," Mr. Evans whispered to Rory's dad. He agreed, despite not completely getting the sarcasm.

"Please Sam, just trust my judgment," Rory pleaded.

"I do. I'm sorry. I don't do well when people hurt the ones I love. I just want to keep you safe," Sam replied. He hugged the boy tight, trying to hold back tears of frustration.

Out in the hall, Mrs. Evans paused by her husband on her way to Sam and Rory's room.

"They're making up, they had an argument. I'd leave them alone, they're probably having make-up sex or something," her husband giggled like a kid. She smacked him on the side of the head with a love tap and told him to 'can it.' She turned around and joined Mrs. Flanagan in the kitchen to start dinner.

"Me mam is making dinner tonight. A traditional Irish meal," Rory told Sam while they sat on the bed, snuggling and watching TV.

"That should be interesting. Hey, how much longer are they gonna be here?"

"I don't know. Now that the trial is over and e'erything with Azimio is done, they will probably go home. They need to work, and Seamus needs to go back to school. I hate to see them go, but at least I got to see them for a while, and you got to meet them."

"Yeah, they're cool. Your dad seems like he was real strict on you though. Just what you told me the other night, I sure wouldn't piss him off," Sam chuckled.

"Oh, ye'r lucky ye' aren't his! If ye' were, ye' never would 'ave talked to ye'r pap that way! He would 'ave given you a right good tannin' without a second consideration," Rory told him in a serious tone.

"Somehow I don't think he smacks like a girl, either. I don't usually talk to my dad like that, though."

"I know. Ye' were upset. It's all over now. Let's just be happy, right?" Rory suggested.

"Right! So, when you coming back to school?"

"I said let's be happy, not let's get depressin'."

"Smartass. Monday sounds good to me. I'll make sure you're good and able to get around," Sam said. "Unless you're too tough for your boyfriend to carry your books for you."

Rory just laughed and leaned back into his chest. For the first time since the entire ordeal began, he felt at peace.


	13. Episode 13: Normalcy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Well the 2nd major arc of the season is over! Time to move on… will there be any peace and quiet, or will the drama come back?_

**Recap:**  Sam went back to school but couldn't get anything done because he was so worried about the trial. The trial came and went and Rory took pity on Azimio, even though everyone else was mad at him for it but now it's over and things can get back to normal and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 13: Normalcy**

Saturday was bittersweet. The trial behind them, the Evans and Flanagan families could finally return to normal, but that also meant that it was time for the Flanagans to return to Ireland. A tearful goodbye was had by the entirety of the two families.

"I miss them already," Rory told Sam that night when they went to bed. It was one in the morning when they finally went to sleep; Rory insisted on waiting until he heard something from his family. They were scheduled to leave Ohio at seven that morning, with a layover in Philadelphia before they made the final trek back to Ireland. It was well past midnight before Rory received a text message that they had landed back home.

"It feels weird," Sam commented offhandedly.

"What does?"

"Things going back to the way they used to be. Sort of. I mean, the trial is over, you're getting a lot better, I've been back to school for a week, you're going back Monday. Your family went home."

Rory sighed. "Ye'r right. E'erthing is going back to normal I guess."

"Yeah, I'll even be able to understand you again when your accent lightens a bit," Sam joked. Normally Rory would laugh too, but at the moment it just meant that along with his softening accent, it meant his family was gone again. It had been hard enough the first time.

"Do ye' really 'ave that bad o' a time?" he asked sullenly.

"No, of course not. I do have to listen to some words a little more, but it's not as bad as people make it out to be. It just means you have to actually pay attention to what you're saying. I'd like to think I don't have that problem."

"I'm sorry, what did ye' say? I wasn't payin' attention," Rory giggled. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

Sam poked him in the side with his finger. "Don't be a smartass. Go to sleep."

"Sam? Will you sing to me?" Rory asked, his voice soft and low. He was struggling to control his emotions. One thing Sam couldn't relate to with him was the parting from family for so long.

"What do you want me to sing?"

"Somethin'… somethin' that won't make me sad," Rory replied.

Sam thought a moment until a song came to mind.

_I can show you the world_

_Shining, shimmering, splendid_

_Tell me, Rory, when did you last let your heart decide?_

Sam began to sing softly in his ear. He was embarrassed to admit it to most of the other glee guys, but he had a large collection of Disney songs, of which one of his favorites was  _A Whole New World_  from  _Aladdin._

_I can open your eyes_

_Take you wonder by wonder_

_Over, sideways and under_

_On a magic carpet ride_

_A whole new world_

_A new fantastic point of view_

_No one to tell us no, or where to go_

_Or say we're only dreaming_

By the time he reached the second verse of the chorus, he could feel Rory shaking lightly. His first inclination was to stop and ask what was wrong, if he was okay, but he knew it was just that he missed his family. He missed home.

_A whole new world_

_A dazzling place I never knew_

_But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear_

_That now I'm in a whole new world with you_

_Now I'm in a whole new world with you_

Sam continued the rest of the song, finishing just as he could tell Rory had fallen asleep. Even though he knew the boy couldn't hear him, that he was fast asleep, still he whispered into his ear in hopes that maybe his message might make it into his dreams.

"I love you so much. I wish you knew just how amazing you are," he finished. He held onto him tightly, feeling his back against his chest, his breathing turning shallow to sleep.

-ooo-

Monday finally came, and that meant both boys were back in school. As soon as his father had left, Rory folded up the walker and shoved it to the back of the closet. As it was, he was still limping a bit, but he was getting around fine.

"At least let me carry your books or something," Sam offered when Rory rebuffed his efforts to help him walking along.

"Ye' don't need to. I can manage, Sammy," Rory insisted. He shouldered his messenger bag, stuffed a textbook inside, and limped along the hallway to first period. He didn't see any of the other glee club students until lunchtime.

"I have this strong temptation to burst out singing the theme song to  _Welcome Back Kotter_ , but somehow I don't think it would be appreciated so much," Blaine laughed, hugging his friend. "It's good to have you back."

Rory sat down next to Sam, everyone looking in their direction. They wanted the news on Azimio.

"He got five years incarceration," Rory answered. He didn't go into the entire ordeal about asking for a lesser sentence, not wanting to hear more chastisement.

"He's lucky. He can still have a life. That's more than he deserves," Kurt said. "I hope he learns something in there."

"Are you okay with that? I mean, he almost killed you," Tina pointed out. "Don't you think he should have gotten more?"

Sam could see where this was going, and he didn't like it. Rory had been through enough, and needed all the support he could get. The last thing he needed was everyone giving him crap about his decision.

"Hey, at least he got that much. It could have been worse. He could have gotten away scot-free," Sam said. Rory looked over at him with eyes that thanked him for the rescue.

"I'm glad to put it past. I just wanna be getting' on with me life," Rory announced, eager to change the subject.

"Your accent is stronger than I remember," Mike noted. "Been around your parents too long."

"Ten bucks says Brittany and Rachel can't understand two words he says until it lightens up a bit," Blaine challenged. "Takers?" He slapped a ten on the table.

"That only works if someone is betting against you. We'd all just end up with our money back," Kurt told him.

"Oh yeah. Good point," Blaine chuckled, taking back his cash.

Tina smiled. "Well I like it. I think it's cute."

"I want to join the swim team I think," Rory announced randomly.

"Huh?" Sam asked. "You serious?"

"Sure. I should be on a sports team or somethin'. Everyone else is."

Tina started having flashbacks to the time the previous year when she, Rachel, Lauren, and Mercedes subbed for the boys on the football team and she shuddered. "Just don't do football."

Mike and Sam bother snickered. "Definitely not. They'd destroy you," Mike said.

"I heard that coach is a real hard ass though," Blaine pointed out. "She got an Olympic medal and it went to her head a little."

"Tell her to bring it on," Rory said confidently. "After what I've been through, some coach with a superiority complex'll be easy."

"That's the spirit!" Tina said, giving him a high five.

"Just don't let it interfere with glee club. We need your voice," Kurt cautioned. "I need to get you ready to take my place when I graduate. The club needs a falsetto at all times."

They finished lunch, not bringing up the Azimio incident again. Both boys knew that they would have to rehash it yet again when they went to the next glee meeting. Leaving the lunch room, they happened to walk past Quinn and Puck sitting alone at a table.

"Hey Irish, glad you're back," Puck greeted, giving him a nod. "Somebody's gotta knock Kurt down a notch or two."

Quinn even seemed pleased to see him return. She got up and hugged him, trying not to look Sam in the eyes. "Nice to see you're doing well. I was worried."

 _You couldn't have been too worried, you never texted him or came to visit,_  Sam thought harshly.  _Jeez, bitter much? Maybe she did care, she just didn't feel comfortable coming around because of… me. I can't be angry at her forever._

"Good to see you're doing well too, Sam," Quinn said, giving him a quick glance. "Well, we better get to class. See you in glee club." She hurried off, Puck following behind her.

"Somethin' is goin' on between those two," Rory noted. "Always together, acting kinda weird."

"You just don't even know," Sam chuckled. "At least she's being civil. Come on, let's get going."

-ooo-

After school, Rory decided to go see the swim coach to see if he could join the team. Unfortunately, that meant going through the gym.

He stood at the doors, sweat suddenly pouring down his face. He opened the door and stepped in, taking a deep breath.

Going to the gym was a mistake. On the wall he saw himself being slammed against it, blood trailing down the side as he fell down. He then pictured himself laying in a puddle of blood on the floor. He started to feel sick.

A basketball whizzed by him, bouncing off the wall. "Hey, toss it back!" the owner of the ball ordered. When Rory didn't respond, the guy took a look at him and realized he wasn't feeling too well.

"You alright, dude?" the kid asked. Rory didn't recognize him, obviously a freshman and unaware he was in glee club, or he just didn't care.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just a little dizzy for a minute there. I guess I need to eat a snack or something'." Rory replied. The kid shrugged, grabbed his ball, and went back to practicing.

Rory felt sweat trickling down his back. His head felt light. His vision got a bit hazy. Before he could get overwhelmed, he felt himself being pulled away and back out of the door.

"Hey dude, you shouldn't go in there," Finn said. "It'll trigger you or something."

"Finn Hudson? What are ye' doin' here?"

"I'm on the football team, remember? Practice and all that. I came out of the locker room and you looked like you might pass out."

"I was just tryin' to get to the pool," Rory told him. Finn looked confused. "I want to join the swim team."

Finn shrugged. "That's cool, but maybe you should hold off on going in the gym. Come on, let's go to the cafeteria and get you something to drink. You look sick."

Rory nodded and followed Finn slowly to the cafeteria where the quarterback brought him an orange juice and cookies. "They don't have much this time of day, but this should steady you up."

"Thank you Finn Hudson," Rory said, taking the snack.

"So what made you wanna join the swim team all of a sudden? I didn't know you were a swimmer," Finn asked.

Rory shrugged. "I thought it might be fun. Give me somethin' active to do."

"That makes sense. You know the coach is a real-"

"Hard arse? I heard." Both guys shared a laugh as Rory finished up his snack.

"I'll grab Sam out of the locker room. He was in there working out. He can take you back to Britt's."

"I take it you haven't heard," Rory corrected. "I moved in with Sam now."

Finn seemed a little shocked. "Whoa, really? His folks are cool with that?"

"Yeah. We get on really good. We just can't sell monkeys for some reason."

"Wait, what? Sell monkeys?"

"His dad said no monkey business."

Finn laughed so hard he started to cry. "He didn't really mean selling monkeys, Rory! That means fooling around, getting freaky," he explained.

"I know that now. The idea was pretty funny, wasn't it? Can ye' picture me an' Sam selling monkeys out o' the bedroom window?"

"Now you're starting to sound like Brittany. Maybe it's a good thing you moved out before it's too late," Finn chuckled. "They let you sleep in the same bed and everything?"

Rory nodded his head. "We have to wear pajamas."

"Knowing Sam, that won't stop him from- yeah anyway I don't wanna think about that," Finn stopped himself. "No offense, I'm just not ready to think about Sam doing that sort of stuff." The younger teen shrugged.

"Okay, I'll tell Sam where you are. Chill out here for a minute and finish your snack," Finn said, getting up and trotting off to the gym again.

_I guess it's a little messed up that I ne'er hang out with Finn anymore. He was my first real friend here and then once Sam got here I kind o' forgot about him. I'll make sure to make a better effort._

A few minutes later, Sam bounded into the cafeteria.

"Hey! You okay?" he asked, sitting down.

"I'm fine. I just shouldn't have gone to the gym yet. Thanks to Finn, I made it out alive."

Sam patted him on the back. "Good. He told me what happened. Get your bag; we'll go ahead on home. I'm going to shower and go job hunting after that. I've put it off too long already."

"I guess I'll be babysitting soon enough, too," Rory mentioned. "I'm lookin' forward to it. I like ye'r brother and sister. They're fun."

"Glad you think so. I'll ask you in about a week if you still feel that way!"

"If I can handle ye', I can handle a couple o' kids."

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed his backpack and slung Rory's bag on his shoulder. To his surprise, the boy didn't protest the assistance.

-ooo-

"How was your first day back?" Mrs. Evans inquired when she got home. She could immediately tell that something was wrong as soon as she asked. "What happened?"

Rory shook his head and smiled. "I'm okay. Really."

"Liar. He went to the gym and almost passed out. Finn took him to the cafeteria and got him fixed up," Sam revealed.

"Why did you go to the gym? You should know that it would trigger a memory or something!" Mrs. Evans scolded.

"I was lookin' for the coach of the swimming team. I want to join," Rory explained. "I want something active to do when I'm not singing in glee club. I'll still watch the kids o' course."

Mrs. Evans grinned. "Oh, I'm so glad you want to do something sporty. It'll be good for you. Do you have to go to the gym, though?"

"No, the locker room leads to the pool and there's an outside entrance. It's a few extra steps but there won't be a trigger," Sam answered.

Rory frowned. "I can't avoid the gym forever. I 'ave to go back at some point. I just 'ave to get over it."

"That's a good attitude, Rory, but take it slow. You went through a very tragic event. You have to understand that. Your unconscious mind isn't necessarily going to play by your rules," she said.

"It's subconscious, mom," Sam corrected.

"That's what I said. I'm proud of you for wanting to be brave," his mother said. She kissed Rory on the forehead and left to her bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

Sam shrugged. "She's right. My mom usually is, except when she isn't. I'm gonna grab a quick shower and get this sweat off of me, then I'm going job hunting. I'll be home by bedtime, okay?"

Rory nodded and limped to his room. He threw his bag on the bed and plopped down in the desk chair. He scolded himself for not thinking it through when he entered the gymnasium. Mrs. Evans was right, he needed to get a hole of himself before he could return to the crime scene.

Stressed out, and in need of a reliever, he shut the door and locked it. He would be finished before Sam got out of the shower. He laid back on the bed, unzipped his pants, and slid them and his underwear down just enough to give him proper access.

He recalled the memory of his first intimate encounter with Sam – when they were in the pool, feeling each other up. He gripped his growing erection and began to stroke. His mind then recalled their nervous yet wonderful foray into oral sex, thinking about just how much he had enjoyed shooting that load down Sam's throat.

As if on cue, his body tensed up and he released his seed on his stomach, wishing Sam had been there to recreate that scene, but he knew Sam had a mission and didn't have time for that. He laid there only a moment longer and then got up, grabbed a tissue and cleaned himself up.

He unlocked the door just as Sam was turning the handle to come in, startling him.

"Jumpy?" Sam asked with a chuckle.

"No, no not at all. Just getting the door."

"Unlocking the door is more like it. Having a little stress relief?" Sam asked with a sly grin.

Rory blushed a little as he smiled back.

"Aww, don't be shy about that," Sam told him. "Just because we're a couple doesn't mean you stop jerking off."

"Right. Well, I was stressed out. It was a hard day," Rory admitted.

Sam grinned. "That wasn't all that was hard, apparently." Rory scowled at him.

"I'm gonna get going," Sam said, giving him a quick kiss, double checking that he had his wallet and keys, and then went on his way.

_That was kind of embarrassing and I'm not sure why. We've had sex, what's to be shy about?_

-ooo-

Sam came home around nine, grabbing a snack from the kitchen before heading to his room. Rory was sitting on the bed, playing  _FIFA._

"Any luck?" he asked, pausing his game.

"Yeah, I think so. The pizza place I was delivering for last year is hiring part time. It's the same manager and he said he could probably get me in as a delivery guy again," Sam replied.

"That doesn't sound so bad. How many hours a day?"

"Between four and five hours I think. I mean, I would only make about twenty five or thirty bucks a night after taxes, but that's better than nothing, right?"

Rory nodded. "Well, let's see, at twenty five a night, times five nights a week is one hundred and twenty five, minus one hundred and fifteen, that gives you ten dollars to spend. Not bad for a young man."

"Wait, where does the one fifteen go?"

"Oh don't you remember? It's the leprechaun tax," Rory beamed.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh. You wish. You'll be lucky to get a box of Lucky Charms on your Blarney Stone."

"That made no sense!" Rory argued.

"No worse than your insults," Sam laughed. "Come on, I'll kick your ass in a round of football."

Sam snatched up the extra controller. "American, or Irish?" he asked.

"The one I'm good at. European, or Irish as you like to call it." He reset the game and they chose their teams and set to playing a game.

-ooo-

It was the first glee club meeting that the boys had been to since the incident. Everyone was excited to finally have the entire group back together.

"Welcome back, Sam, Rory. You've both been missed," Mr. Schue announced. "While you were gone, we started tossing around ideas for Regionals. Now, they aren't until March, but we really have to bring on the heat if we want to make it to Nationals again this year."

Rory looked a little confused. "What's the difference between Regionals and Nationals?"

Santana snickered before she answered. "Let me put it in terms you can understand. Regionals is for a row of potatoes, Nationals is for the entire potato crop."

"Thank you Santana for that wonderfully bigoted explanation," Rachel said in a sickly sweet voice. "What she means is Regionals is for the state, Nationals is for the whole U.S. Last year it was in New York."

"That sounds awesome!" Rory replied excitedly.

"It  _is_  awesome, which is why we need to make our show the best we have to offer. We want to leave the crowd with their jaws on the floor," Mr. Schue clarified.

"Tell them about the contest, Mr. Schue," Finn piped up.

Mr. Schuester looked as if he had suddenly been greatly enlightened. "Oh yeah, that's right. Thanks, Finn. One of the things we wanted to do was a duet. We did that last year and it really won people over."

"Who gets the duet?" Sam asked, knowing already that it would be Rachel and Finn or Rachel and Blaine.

"That's where the contest comes into play. Anyone who wants to compete can do so. The judges will be Miss. Pilsbury and Coach Beiste and myself. Anyone competing better bring their A-game, and that includes choreography and costumes," Mr. Schue told them.

"Don't forget the other thing, Mr. Schue," Rachel reminded him.

"We're going to have another competition, but this one isn't for a prize. It's just to decide which group number we do at Regionals. We're going to put together two different numbers, perform them in front of the school, and then let them choose which one we should do at Regionals."

Most clubs would have cheered at the idea of a school performance, but as usual, the entire glee club groaned at the reminder. It was just another opportunity for the other students to make fun of them.

The rest of the club time was spent discussing ideas for song, as well as a stunning performance of Flo Rida's  _Right Round_  by Artie, Finn, and Puck with backup female vocals by Brittany. By the end, everyone was dancing together and joined in the song.

-ooo-

"Do you want to enter-" Sam began, but Rory interrupted before he could finish his sentence.

"Yes, we're entering, now the question is which song do we sing?" Rory said.

Sam paused a moment. "You know, do you think we have a chance? I mean, do you think the world is ready for a duet with two guys?"

"If Blaine and Kurt can do it, so can we. Start thinkin' of a song," Rory replied.

Sam giggled. "Wow, who made you boss?"

"Sorry, I just got excited."

"I'm only teasing. Hey it's not quite four yet, the swim coach should still be in. Want me to walk you over?"

Rory accepted and the pair walked outside and around the school to reach the back entrance to the pool. Inside, several students were swimming laps back and forth in the Olympic sized pool.

"I know I don't see students in my pool without a swimsuit," the heard a domineering voice echoing off the walls. They turned around to see a thin black woman with blonde hair and a non-nonsense look about her approaching them. She wore some sort of medal around her neck.

"Did ya hear me? Stop standing there like a dock and put on a bathing suit," she said in very quick manner. No, she didn't put up with anything, it was beyond obvious.

"Well actually ma'am, I wanted to ask you about joining the swim team," Rory said.

"What's that? Speak up son, my ears get full of water," the woman said.

"Me name's Rory Flanagan. I want to join the swim team," he said louder.

She looked at him bewildered for only a second. "Well let me tell you something Rory Flanagan, you're about the strangest sounding kid I ever saw. I didn't understand a word you said past your name and even that was kind of strange."

She then turned her gaze to Sam. "And you are the funniest looking kid I ever did see. I have never seen lips that thick on a white child. I bet you had a lot you had to overcome in life with a mouth like that."

"Uh, coach…?" Sam started.

"Coach Roz Washington. And I know you, trouty mouth. Now I see how you got that nickname with those big lips, looking like a trout waiting for a fishhook. Now again I ask why you are here without a bathing suit?"

"I want to join the swim team," Rory repeated, pronouncing each word slowly as if he were trying to talk to a child.

The coach seemed agitated. "Why didn't you say that the first time? Go put on a bathing suit and then we'll talk."

"But I don't have one here," Rory explained.

"What did he say?" she asked, looking at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking. "He said he doesn't have a swimsuit here at school."

"Not an issue. Go right to the locker room and check out the rack, there should be plenty in your size. You look a little thin, we might need to put a burger on you so you're buoyant. Don't come back out here without a suit on."

"I don't want to join, just him," Sam said.

"I said don't come back out here without a suit on. You want to talk, dress out. Otherwise, keep your trouty lips inside that locker room," the coach ordered. The two boys looked at each other and shrugged, then made their way to the locker room.

Inside was a rack that neither one of them had taken notice of before. They picked out two suits and put them on. Or at least what existed of them.

"Speedos. Why didn't I guess?" Sam said, annoyed. He felt incredibly self-conscious in them, as if his crotch was suddenly the center of attention in the bright red fabric.

"We wear these all the time at home."

The pair walked back out to the pool, Sam keeping his hands casually in front of himself.

"Alright kid, let's see what you got. In the pool," she said to Rory.

"You should know he's still recovering from an accident, so he might not be-" Sam began.

"Trout don't talk in my pool, Sam Evans. Let him swim. When you hit the water, the timer starts. Three laps back and forth," she stated. "you got two seconds to hit the water. Go."

Rory dove into the water rather gracefully but when he started to swim, the pain shot from his shoulder to the rest of his body.

"He don't look so good, what'd ya do to him, Sam Evans?"

"I didn't do anything to him. He hurt his shoulder."

"How does he think he's gonna swim laps like that? He'll be flopping around like a fish, kid get out of the water!" she shouted. Rory felt humiliated.

"I'm sorry, the pain started," Rory stated, pushing himself up out of the water. "Sorry to waste your time."

The coach had a stern look on her face. She looked at Rory, then at Sam and saw the resolve in his eyes. There was something in those green eyes that told her not to discount his young charge.

"I tell you what, Rory Flanagan. I don't understand two words that come out of your mouth, but I can see you tried even if your friend here doesn't have any confidence in ya," the coach said. Sam protested but she continued on.

"Kid, I like you. I'm gonna let you train until you're ready to join the team. It's hard work, requires a lot of dedication, but you got a fire in those blue eyes of yours. You do alright in there and get your speed up, I might just let you on the laps team."

Rory looked up, surprised to have not been completely rejected. "Wow? Really? Thank you!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"What did he say?"

"He said he'll go for it," Sam replied.  _This woman is ridiculous._

"Alright Rory Flanagan, listen up because I'm only gonna tell you this once. Nod if you understand me," Coach Roz said. Rory nodded his head. "Good. Now, if you piss in my pool, I. Will. Kill. You."

He nodded again, a look of fear and respect on his face.

"Now get on out of here, practice is at three on Monday, Wednesday, and every other Friday," she stated. He thanked her again but before they left, Coach Roz pulled Sam aside.

"You come with him as a translator, or am I on my own on this one?"

Sam grinned. "Looks like you might be on your own, Coach. I'm not a swimmer, I'm a ball player."

The coach scoffed as she turned around and faced the pool again. "Speed it up you guppies, I want to see you walk on water!"

"She's a little scary," Sam said when they got to the locker room.

"I kind of like her. She's tough. It reminds me of home, where they're real strict on sports teams," the younger boy explained.

"At least it doesn't conflict with glee club."

"I guess I need to practice my swimming some more. I'll get in the pool at home and see if I can toughen up a little," Rory stated. It was all Sam could do to contain himself as he watched the boy bend down to take off his speedo and change back into regular clothes.

 _That boy has got the nicest ass I have ever seen. Beyonce, eat your heart out,_ Sam thought.

-ooo-

As soon as he finished up his homework, Rory headed to the pool. Much to their excitement, Stacy and Stevie followed him in, allowed to play in the shallow end with proper floating gear. There was no way he was prepared to play lifeguard if one of them ventured too deep.

"Mr. Rory! Play ball with us!" Stacy begged.

"In a little bit, okay? I need to practice my swimming. I joined the team today," Rory explained.

"You joined a team? Oh boy what Kind of team? Is it a dive team? A submarine driving team?"

"No, dummy, he joined the swim team," Stevie corrected her. She scowled at him and splashed him.

Rory couldn't help but laugh. "It's the swim team. They do laps back and forth."

"You run laps? Like on top of it?" Stacy asked, trying to imagine anyone running on top of the water.

"No, they swim laps IN the water. Jeez!" Stevie explained with irritation.

She scowled at him again and splashed him even more. "Shut up, meanie! How am I supposed to know that?"

"Alright ye' two, calm down or else ye' 'ave to get out and sit on the side. Be nice to each other," Rory said, attempting a stern voice.

"Sorry Mr. Rory," Stacy said sadly. Stevie didn't say anything but he did leave her alone.

Rory started out in the shallow end. The water was great for movement, since he mostly floated and it took the weight off of his leg. It was healing, but it still ached a little after a lot of walking. He estimated he would be back to normal in another week or two.

What had hurt him was the long rotation movement of his shoulder when he tried to swim overhand. He hadn't worked his arm a lot, and he knew he would need to get it back to working order regardless of what sport he was attempting.

He sank under water and started to swim with his arms in front of him, swinging his arms to the side and back front, pushing along the water. That didn't feel so bad. It was the overhand that hurt, but that was what they required on a swim team. Baby steps.

He swam laps underwater several times back and forth before his shoulder ached too much to go on. When he rose up out of the water, he did so just in time to catch the ball before it bonked him in the head.

"Hey, no fair, I wasn't looking!" he complained. He tossed it back toward the kids, who threw themselves toward it, both of them trying to catch it. They pitched the ball back and forth between the three of them for about fifteen minutes before Rory couldn't take it much more.

"Okay guys, it's time to get out of the pool for today. No runnin', and get ye'r towel right away," he instructed. The kids both did as told, wrapping up in their towels and sitting on the bench. Rory got out as well, dried his upper half off, and wrapped the towel around his waist.

"Dry off real good, and then go to ye'r rooms and put on dry clothes. By the time ye' do all that, ye'r mam would 'ave dinner goin'."

Rory started massaging his shoulder, working it good with his fingertips and thumbs. He was so engrossed in his task he didn't notice Mr. Evans come in.

"Shoulder hurting you?" the older man asked. Rory nodded his head. "Don't push yourself too far too fast. You can end up doing more damage if you aren't careful."

"Yes, sir. I know. I just joined the swim team today and wanted to get a little practice in," the teen explained.

"Good for you. Aerobic therapy of sorts. Come on, you need a proper massage," Mr. Evans stated, turning the boy around and putting his hands on his shoulders. "Don't get excited, I'm just gonna work your shoulder muscles."

Rory sat in silence as his host father used his magic fingers to dig in to the muscles of his shoulders and upper arms. It felt good. He wished it was Sam's hands on him, rather than his father's.

"There, that should do you for now. Get some dry clothes on, dinner will be ready before too long." Rory nodded and got up, double checking to make sure he wasn't dripping before he went into the main part of the house. When he got in, the kids were sitting in the living room, watching TV. Stacy was coloring and Stevie was playing a Nintendo DS game.

At dinner, Mrs. Evans inquired about his first afternoon watching the kids.

"They really seem well behaved, Mrs. Evans. They didn't argue with me and I only had to tell them to be nice to each other one time," he answered. She then inquired about his new sport, and he went on to tell them about Coach Roz and her failed attempts at understanding him, but how she readily accepted him.

Just as they were finishing up, Sam came home, having finally found out that he got the pizza delivery job back. He had spent the afternoon at the shop, the manager reviewing the rules and regulations with him and getting his payroll in the system.

Rory fixed him a plate and set it down for him, sitting at the table while he ate and recounting the afternoon's events with the kids. His parents were in the living room with the kids.

"This is kind of trippy, isn't it?" Sam asked. Rory cocked his head in confusion. "Well, us living together. Coming home to my boyfriend with dinner ready, the kids all set for the night. It's like a little household or something."

His boyfriend smiled, his blue eyes sparkling like they hadn't done in quite a while. "I think that's a good way to look at it. I'm happy here, Sam. With ye'r family. They make me feel like I'm part o' the family already. Ye' all make it so much easier being away from home."

Sam got up and hugged him, then put his plate in the dishwasher. "I'm glad you feel that way, Ror. I'm glad you're here. You give me something to look forward to when I come home now."

"Sammy? We can still go on dates though, right?"

"Of course! Why not? We need to anyway. It's been too long, and now that you're doing much better, I think it's time we went out. I'll check my schedule at work and figure out when we can go out. Maybe dinner at Breadstix?"

"I'd like that. My treat this time, ye' paid last time." Rory gave him a look that told him it would be better not to argue.

"It's a deal. Now I need to get my damn homework done," Sam lamented. "These are gonna be some long days," he said.

The pair of them trotted off to their room, Sam siting at his desk doing his homework and Rory laying on his stomach on the bed, reading a novel, his iPod playing in his ears. By the time Sam was done with his homework, it was time for bed. Yet another day gone by, a routine looking to set itself in as they got used to their new schedules.

-ooo-

Rory was a little nervous for his first practice with the swim team. He didn't know any of the other students on the team, and he was joining two weeks after tryouts, and wasn't even entirely ready.

He walked out of the locker room and out to the pool, not sure what to do or where to go.

"What'cha standing around for, Rory Flanagan? You got some training to do. I want that arm working like a clock. Get in that water and do some laps any way you can. Don't go drowning on me, I don't have time to drag you out of the pool."

Rory started to say something in response but Coach Roz interrupted him. "Don't try to speak, you don't make no sense to me, just get in the water and go to it. Nod to me if you understand me." He nodded and then dove into the water, swimming the way he did back at home, arms out in front and opening outward, propelling himself forward.

He started to wonder if Coach Roz would ever understand him, or let him get a sentence out edgewise.

By the third lap his shoulder was aching bad, and after another lap he just couldn't tolerate it anymore. "What's wrong with you Rory Flanagan? No, nevermind, I won't understand you anyway. Sam Evans said you were in an accident. Nod if you understand me," Coach Roz said.

Rory nodded as the coach went on. "Injury bothering you? That's what I thought. Take a breather then I want three more laps before you're done." He opened his mouth as if he were about to speak but she cut him off. "Don't speak, you don't make sense to me, Just come to me when you're done, nod to me if you follow me."

All this nodding was starting to get on his nerves. If she just tried, she would understand him; his accent wasn't that thick and it was getting lighter the more he was away from his family again.

Following her instructions, he managed three more laps after sitting out for a few minutes. It hurt, but he knew it was good for him to get it working again. After he finished up, he reported to the coach, she told him to make sure he came back prepared to do a total of ten laps next practice.

-ooo-

"Wow, Ror. You look like you are in some serious pain," Sam observed when he got home from his evening deliveries. He emptied his pockets on the desk, setting down a handful of dollar bills next to his wallet.

"I am. First swim practice was rough," he answered. "I 'ave a lot of workin' to do to get up to par with e'eryone else. I'm not even doin' the overhand yet."

Sam sat down on the bed next to him and instructed him to lay down flat on his stomach. He put his hands on Rory's shoulders and started to massage them, digging his thumbs in deep to work the muscle.

"Are you sure this isn't too soon? Doesn't it take a while to heal inside?" Sam asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I'll be fine. It wasn't as bad as ye' think. Small knife, small wound."

"I just don't want you tearing it open again or something. Be careful," Sam cautioned.

Rory turned his head and gave him a cocky grin. "Yes, mammy. I'll be careful."

Sam poked him in the side with his finger, eliciting a cry of surprise. He started to sit back up, but Sam kept his hands on him, forcing him down.

"Hey, let me up," Rory protested.

"Nuh uh," Sam replied forcefully. "You're mine now, guppy." He held him down with one hand while the other reached down and pushed his pajama bottoms and boxers down toward his knees. Sam kicked off his own pants and drawers, pressing his crotch up against Rory's exposed rear.

"Sam I don't think I can-" Rory started to say, but Sam had straddled him and kept one hand holding him down by the shoulders and put his hand over his mouth.

"Shh, just be a good boy and handle it," Sam whispered in his ear mischievously. He wriggled himself so that his erection, already slick with excitement, was wedged between the boy's cheeks.

Rory was actually nervous, not prepared to take Sam's big endowment at the time. The first time he had been in such a sexual frenzy he couldn't help but take it, but at the moment he wasn't exactly in the proper mood to be penetrated.

His muffled protests slowed to a stop as he realized that Sam wasn't trying to penetrate him, but was merely sliding his dick between his cheeks, using the taut globes to pleasure himself. Sam was thrusting his hips in such a way it was making him grind his own crotch into the sheets.

Sam thrust faster and harder as he jerked his cock between Rory's ass cheeks. "Sm am gon cm," Rory managed to warn, his words muffled by Sam's sweating hand.

Sam leaned down and whispered in his ear as he continued grinding away. "Go ahead, baby. Don't hold back."

Rory couldn't have held back even if he tried. The only thing keeping him quiet was Sam's hand over his mouth as he moaned, his seed shooting onto the sheets. Sam felt his muscles tighten as he came, and then he shot his own load between the teen's globes and the small of his back.

He collapsed and rolled onto his back, panting. "Just stay there a sec, I'll clean you up." He went to the desk and grabbed a handful of tissues and began mopping up the sticky mess he had left behind. When he was done, he flopped Rory onto his back and wiped his crotch and belly clean, then the sheets.

"Do me a favor and wash those when you get home tomorrow," Sam said, stripping the sheets off and putting fresh ones on. "I don't want evidence laying around."

He then came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him. "How was that for a little something different?"

"It was… it was hot. I was scared at first ye' were goin' to…" Rory couldn't think of the right word to use.

"That I was going to fuck you?"

Rory blushed a little. "Yeah. Once I figured out ye' wasn't gonna, I liked it."

Sam grinned. "I just wanted to give you a little something different. Like to keep you guessing."

"Ye' did a good job of that," Rory replied. "Feel free to surprise me anytime you want."

"Hey hey now, don't put all the pressure on me. You can do something wild sometime too. Shock me. Make me go 'Damn, where did THAT come from?'"

"Maybe someday," Rory joked. They both put on their pajamas and sat up playing video games until bed time.

-ooo-

Starting the next day, they seemed to fall into a regular routine. Mondays, Wednesdays, and every other Friday, Rory would be at swim practice after school, while Sam used that time to do his homework, then he'd drop Rory at home before heading off to work. Tuesdays and Thursdays was glee club, and Rory would swim at home while Sam had to struggle to get his homework done by bedtime.

After an entire week of this, it was wearing on Sam just a bit as he got used to working every day after school. It was tiring, but every time he felt frustrated, he just told himself that it was the cost of Rory being able to live with him.

The competition for the duet was still another week away, but they hadn't decided on a song let alone rehearsed.

"You still want to audition?" Sam asked, slightly skeptical.

"Yes! We just need to think o' a song. Something happy. I always sing sad songs," Rory replied.

"Your ballad wasn't sad. That was happy," Sam argued. Rory shrugged.

"You get me point, Sammy."

"You could always pick an Irish song and we can confuse the hell out of them singing Irish," Sam joked.

A light bulb went off over Rory's head. "That's an excellent idea!" he exclaimed. "No, not for the contest, but just to sing for the glee club. I should sing in Irish, just to let them hear my native language."

"That will be interesting, but you need subtitles or nobody will know what you're saying."

"Note to self: get some poster board and a marker to make subtitles," Rory replied confidently.

Sam screwed up his face. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, why not? I'll sing and ye' can flip cards. It will be like TV but without a clicker."

"And what are you going to sing, hm?" Sam asked, being facetious.

Rory grinned at him smugly. "I 'ave a whole bunch I could choose from, thank ye' very much."

"Not songs from Irish mass or anything, right?"

Rory smirked and rolled his eyes. "No. My favorite Irish singing group,  _Celtic Thunder,_  has plenty o' songs in Gaelic. I'll pick one o' my favorites."

"Well… maybe I want to be the only one to hear you singing in Irish," Sam pouted. Rory smiled at him and crawled over to him, hugging him.

"I'll sing for ye' before anyone else, alright? Ye' can make sure it's good enough for singin' in glee club." He kissed Sam on the forehead.

"Well what about our song for the contest though?"

"How about something by t.A.T.u.? The Russian girls. Everything they 'ave is a duet, and they're gay-friendly. We could easily choose one o' theirs," Rory suggested.

Sam thought a moment. It was a valid suggestion, and everything of theirs was indeed a duet, which made it just a little easier. "Okay, well which song? I don't want one of the ones where they say the same line over and over."

"Neither do I. Hand over me laptop and we can look through me iTunes." Sam handed it over to him and he flipped open the lid. His background was set to a large photo of the two of them, grinning, taken during the Christmas holiday break.

He pulled up his music library and they started to go through various tracks, trying to find one more upbeat that wasn't repetitive, which unfortunately ruled out a good amount of their songs. That meant they had to be kind of lenient about which one they chose out of the remaining tracks. It was almost eleven before they went to bed, having finally settled on three they wanted to try out later.

-ooo-

Since coming back to school, there had been plenty of whispers and talk behind Rory's back in the student body. Most of the upperclassmen were more concerned with the drama of Azimio being arrested and going to jail than the actual incident itself or even that homosexuality was involved with Sam Evans or Rory.

Unfortunately, the lower classmen weren't so worried with that. Instead, they seemed focused on the fact that Rory was gay, and that until recently, Sam Evans was straight. That gave them plenty of ammo, and none of them wanted to listen to Rory try and explain his feelings in any capacity.

Thursday night, he had slept wrong on his shoulder, and woke up with both it and his leg aching. His leg had been doing just fine, the limping almost gone altogether, but for some reason his body just felt like being difficult come Friday morning.

As he was limping to class, a group of three sophomores from his English class called out to him as he walked by. "Hey Rory! Sam fuck you so hard up your ass that you can't walk today?" The other two students started laughing along with the boy who made the comment. Rory just turned around and glared at them.

"I bet you like that, don't you? That American cock up your foreign ass, making you his little bitch. I bet he makes you beg for it, too, don't he?" one of the other two added.

Anger was starting to rise in his chest. This was how it all started with Azimio. Taunts and comments, then slushies, then violence.  _We are not goin' through this shite again. No way, no how,_ he thought.

"Ye' know somethin'? The last guy that had somethin' smart to say to me, I put him in jail, so unless ye' want to end up in the next cell with him, ye' might wanna shut up." He instantly felt better, but also surprised at himself because he was never a confrontational person. At the same time, there was no way he was going to allow himself to be bullied anymore, either.

The three sophomores stared at him in shock, having not expected the little "Irish fey" to stand up for himself. Not waiting for a response, Rory turned back and headed to his class. He couldn't wait to tell Sam later on how he had shown those boys not to mess with him.

-ooo-

"What are you looking so smug for?" Sam asked at lunch.

"Because I actually stood up for meself today," Rory beamed.

Sam looked a little worried. "Wait, what? Who is harassing you now?"

"Oh just some stupid tenth years. They made smart comments while I walked by so I told them to shut up or else I would put them in jail next to Azimio. They seemed surprised," Rory explained.

"Uhh you probably shouldn't mention that too much. It's not a good idea for that to get spread around any more than it has to," Sam cautioned.

Rory slumped his shoulders. He hadn't expected a reprimand. "But isn't it good I didn't let them bully me?"

"Of course it is," Sam replied, giving him a peck on the top of his head. "I'm proud, just don't get reckless."

Changing the subject, Rory asked if Sam was working the weekend or not. "I have the weekend off this time," he replied.

"Okay. Good. Saturday night at six-thirty show up at my house dressed to the nines and hungry. Got it?" Rory asked.

"But we live together. I wouldn't be going anywhere," Sam argued.

"I'm trying to be cute, quit ruinin' it," Rory scolded playfully. "Just be ready to go out at six-thirty."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, fine, fine. You'll have to tell me where we're going since I have to drive."

"Why can't I drive?" Rory asked, serious as possible.

Sam almost choked on his juice. "You? Drive? You aren't even sixteen and you don't have a license or permit and you don't even know how, do you?"

Rory shook his head. "No. I thought maybe it would be a good time to figure it out."

"How about not? So where are we going?"

"BreadstiX. Where we had our first date. This time it's my treat though."

Sam smiled at him. "Okay. Sounds good. You just wanna ruin my diet, don't you?" he asked playfully, taking a bite of a big cookie.

"What diet? The one with cookies and soda?"

"Okay, okay, good point. I do need to get back on my diet and exercise routine. I'm getting a little chunky," Sam said, pinching a non-existent inch.

"Sammy? Are ye' serious? Chunky? Where? The only bit of chunky on ye' is ye'r big-"

"Hey guys! What's happenin'?" Blaine asked, sitting down at the table, Kurt sitting across from him.

Rory caught himself just in time. Somehow he had a feeling neither Blaine nor Kurt wanted to know that Sam was well equipped. Then again he had to admit there was the very slight curiosity about the other two boys and their equipment.

_I wonder if Sam thinks any other guys are good lookin'. I kind o' do. Blaine is very nice to look at. Kurt's a little too… feminine. Blaine has that masculine air about him. Even Mike is nice looking. None o' them measures up to Sam. I don't think anyone can be as good as Sam. He's e'erthing I could e'er want._

"Hey, Rory, you there?" Blaine asked, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry, I was lost in thoughts," he replied, embarrassed.

"I was just asking how the swimming was going," Blaine repeated. "Sam told us you joined the team."

Rory glanced at Sam a moment, the sparkle in his eyes before he answered. "Good so far, thank ye' for askin'. I'm not really on the team yet. I'm still trainin' until the coach lets me in with the rest o' the group."

"I'm a pretty good swimmer. If you want to race laps sometime to get up your speed, let me know," Blaine offered.

"Be careful, Rory, he's really competitive with sports and games. You might have to drown him," Kurt teased, leaning up against his boyfriend and grinning.

Sam suddenly had a look on his face – the kind someone gets when a great idea forms in their head out of nowhere. "Hey, why don't you guys come over this weekend? Nobody ever comes over. We can have a pool party."

"That could be fun. I'm not getting in the water though, the chlorine is bad for my skin. I'll click the stopwatch. I have a really fancy one my dad got me for my fourteenth birthday. I don't think he could bring himself to get me the designer watch from the jewelry store. It was a little too feminine I think," Kurt announced.

"Actually he just doesn't want to handle all the layers. Once I counted, he actually had five layers of clothing on and that was just the top," Blaine corrected.

"I think it would be grand if ye' came over," Rory added.

They spent the rest of lunch making plans for the weekend, then went about their day. After school, Sam went to work and Rory went home to watch the kids and do some training in the pool. He could only get away with it as long as he promised to toss the ball with the kids for a little while afterward. Until then, Stacy would cheer him on as he swam laps, working his arms.

"Mr. Rory, are you all better yet?" she asked. "You still walk a little funny."

"I'm getting there," he replied with a smile.

"I like your smile, Mr. Rory. It always make me feel happy. Sammy likes it too. He stares all the time," she said. Stevie rolled his eyes.

"Don't be weird, Stacy, only boys and girls do that. Not boys and boys," Stevie argued. Suddenly Rory realized that while Stacy seemed a little more clued in on the situation, her brother was a little more oblivious.

Stacy scowled at him. "I'm not weird. It's what special friends do. You wouldn't know because you don't have a special friend."

"Neither do you," he pointed out.

She seemed agitated at his accusation. "Mr. Rory is my really good friend, though. That's almost a special friend. "

"Okay you two, let's get ready for dinner, your mam is making chicken tonight," Rory interrupted.  _Time for a talk with Sam's mam and pap._

"Mrs. Evans, can I talk to ye' for a moment?" he asked as she was pulling the chicken from the oven.

"Sure dear, what's on your mind?" she asked, setting down the chicken and stirring the potatoes.

He was a little nervous, having never had this kind of conversation before. "Uhm, today Stacy and Stevie started talking about, ye' know, me and Sam." He waited to see if she would respond but she just smiled. "Stacy says we're special friends, and said she can see the look in Sam's eyes. Stevie said she was bein' weird."

"Hmm, well that is interesting, isn't it? I guess Stevie hasn't been as observant as Stacy. She picks up on things much quicker than he does. Maybe just because she's younger she pays more attention."

"I guess I just don't know what to say to them if they ask about it. It's not me place to try and explain about it, and I don't want to go against ye'r family rules."

Mrs. Evans smiled even more than she already had been. "Oh that's so sweet of you to worry about that. If they bring it up again, tell them to ask Sam about it. They adore him and I can guarantee you that anything he tells them will pacify them."

"Okay, I'll do that then. Is it okay if I give Sam a warning so he knows they might ask?"

"Oh yeah, but he's used to them asking questions. Stevie asked him about some words he heard at school, and needless to say he ended up learning about puberty a little sooner than we expected," she explained.

Rory was bewildered at their blatant honesty, explaining intimate things to kids so young, but it wasn't his business. Satisfied with knowing at least how to address the issue, he went to his room to work on some homework until dinner was ready.


	14. Episode 14: Drama Free is the Way to Be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: I actually don't have any notes this time! Just thank you for your support and reviews, it makes me want to keep going. Oh yeah, by the way, you Klaine shippers will find a lovely little treat in this chapter. ;)_

**Recap:**  Rory joined the swim team, Sam got a job, and the kids are getting closer to finding out exactly what their relationship is all about and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 14: Drama Free is the Way to Be?**

Mr. and Mrs. Evans took the kids to a movie and Discovery Zone for the afternoon so that the boys and their friends could have some time without younger interference.

"All you're missing is a hot tub," Blaine said, taking a look around the pool. "I can't believe what a nice place your folks got for so cheap."

"Foreclosures, baby, foreclosures," Sam said jokingly. "If it wasn't for that, there is no way in hell we could have afforded it otherwise."

Kurt was wearing a fashionable tank top and a pair of swim shorts, while Blaine wore something more along the lines of the very short trunks Rory had. If anyone had walked in on the group, they would have been convinced a porno was about to be filmed. Trunks didn't leave but so much to the imagination.

"Come on Kurt, get in. Then we can play volleyball with even teams," Blaine pleaded.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I didn't bring any extra hair gel, and I told you, it's not good for my skin."

"My mom has moisturizer and Rory has more than enough hair gel to go around. As long as you moisturize within a half hour of getting out, you'll be fine," Sam fibbed. He really had no idea about the moisturizing tip, but it sounded good.

Kurt sighed. "I'll think about it. Go do your laps first. I'll clock you."

Blaine and Rory got ready to push off from the shallow end, waited for Kurt's signal, and then jettisoned away from the wall, swimming toward the other side. Rory still hadn't gotten to where his shoulder was cooperating fully, so he was a little slower than Blaine.

"Good try, Rory. Considering you're still getting your arm up to par, you put in a good effort," Blaine commented. He gave him a high five and then they raced another lap. Sam stayed off to the side but then challenged them to a final lap.

"Okay boys, get ready because I am gonna beat you both," Sam announced.

"You're still full o' energy, that's not fair," Rory complained.

Giving him a smug grin, he got on the wall, ready to push off. Rory and Blaine followed suit and Kurt called the signal. Sam got a good start but Blaine overtook him.

When the laps were over, Rory and Blaine celebrated Blaine's victory, teasing Sam.

"I took it easy on you!" Sam claimed.

"Sure ye' did," Rory teased some more. Sam grabbed him and dunked him underwater.

"You might be the faster swimmer, but I'll take you in volleyball!" Sam declared. "In fact, come on Kurt, you can be on my team and we'll both kick their butts!"

After much more coaxing, they managed to get Kurt in the water, albeit with a little complaining. At least until he made his first spike.

The played three games, Sam and Kurt winning two out of three. Rory and Blaine claimed fatigue, but Sam called bullshit on them.

By about four, their guests were ready to go, Sam and Rory needing to clean up and get ready for their date a couple hours later.

"Can I borrow your shower?" Blaine asked. "I want to get all of this chlorine off, it makes my skin feel tight when it dries."

"Sure. Down the hall, on the right. Extra towels in the hall closet. Help yourselves," Sam replied.

Kurt was about to ask about the moisturizer and hair gel – two things promised him when he agreed to get in the water – but Rory was two steps ahead and already had brought them out for him.

The two boys went into the bathroom to shower, but Blaine had slightly more sinister intentions for his boyfriend than just a simple lather, rinse, and repeat.

Kurt stripped down and got in the shower, sighing in happiness as the 'ickiness' was washed away. Blaine stepped in front of him, shampoo in hand. Like the gentleman he was, he started to lather up Kurt's hair, massaging his scalp in the process.

When he rinsed it out, Blaine pressed himself against Kurt's naked body and began to kiss him, tasting the fruity flavor of his waterproof chapstick.

"You taste so good, like you always do," Blaine whispered. Kurt, only having recently broached into the sexual realm, was far less vocal in his arousal and other sexual feelings, but in their short time exploring, Blaine had come to understand exactly how Kurt's reactions translated.

Blaine felt Kurt begin to get excited, their erections pressing against each other, rubbing together in the slick soapy water.

Breaking away from their kissing, the junior reached up to condition Kurt's hair, again working his fingers into his scalp, eliciting quiet moans of pleasure. He pressed himself up against him again, reaching around with his hands to cup Kurt's ass.

"Blaine, stop," Kurt protested playfully. "We're guests!"

Blaine kissed him again, squeezed his cheeks. "That just means don't leave a mess," he replied in kind. He began to grind his hips, their dicks slipping and sliding between them, sending shudders of pleasure through their bodies.

In Sam and Rory's room, the pair giggled as they speculated what was going on in the bathroom with their friends.

"I don't picture Kurt being all that into, ye' know, being sexy," Rory giggled. "He's so picky about his skin."

"Sometimes people surprise you. For all we know he could be a total freak in the bedroom. They could be in there right now, Blaine handcuffed to the pipes while Kurt rides him like a pony," Sam suggested.

"I doubt that," Rory insisted. "Fooling around a little, but not that sexy." The two boys continued to speculate, Sam giving them more credit for what they did behind closed doors, while Rory gave Kurt at least a far more innocent demeanor.

Back in the shower, Blaine had moved on to stroking Kurt with his slick, soapy hand, teasing his head with his thumb on every upward stroke. Kurt was struggling to stay standing, quietly enjoying the sensations in his crotch.

Blaine suddenly felt him shudder as he had his orgasm, only his deeper breathing being the audible clue that he was in heaven. They continued to kiss as Blaine stroked himself to orgasm, struggling to keep quiet as it was in his nature to want to make noise.

Both boys sated, they cleaned up, finished their shower, and got dressed. When they joined their friends, Kurt had a slightly embarrassed look on his face as Sam gave them that knowing look – the look that said he knew exactly what they had been up to. Blaine on the other hand just grinned innocently.

"They surely did something fun in there," Sam said after their friends left. "Did you see the looks on their faces? Totally guilty."

"Ye' sound like… like ye'r curious about them," Rory said, his tone not accusing, but inquisitive.

"Nah, not really. Kurt is a bit too… he's not very masculine. Kind of doesn't attract me. Blaine's very handsome, but he isn't you," Sam replied confidently. "Why, are you?"

Rory shrugged. "I think I am just curious about their relationship. I mean, I have never seen another man and man relationship, so I am wondering if they are the same way that we are, or if they're different."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh, like do they spend all the time together like we do? Do they kiss and cuddle and just lay next to each other? Do they hold hands and laugh about the same sort of things we do? Do they have sex the same way we do?"

Sam scratched his chin. "Sounds to me like you just want to know if all relationships work the same way." Rory nodded at him. "Every relationship is different. Guys, girls, whatever. Me and Quinn went out on dates more often, made out a lot but never had sex. There was more actual affection and emotion involved. But Santana? That was just a constant sex fest. There weren't any real emotions there."

Rory looked a little confused. "With you there's everything. Amazing sex, affection, emotions. Love. There isn't really anything missing," Sam told him. "Why's it matter anyway? There aren't any rules or anything. Nothing that says a relationship has to be this or that."

"I suppose it doesn't matter. I never had a relationship before, so I guess I want to make sure I do e'erything right. I don't want to mess anythin' up," Rory admitted to him.

Sam hugged him and kissed the top of his head. "You're a perfect boyfriend. Quit worrying. You do everything right."

By six thirty they were ready to go. BreadstiX wasn't fancy by any means, but it was still a nice sit down restaurant, so they dressed nicer than usual. Sam wore a nice pair of black slacks and a tucked in polo shirt while Rory wore black slacks with a tucked in button down shirt with a bowtie he borrowed from Blaine.

"The bowtie is cute. You got that idea from either Blaine or Artie," Sam observed.

"Blaine let me borrow it. It's one o' the few plain ones he had. I like it."

They went to dinner, making idle chitchat but mostly just grinning back at forth at each other. They had reached the stage where a comfortable silence was just fine, and no longer awkward.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?" Sam asked him when they were waiting for their dessert to be brought out.

Rory shrugged. "I didn't think we had to do anything. It's not a big deal to me."

"You'll be sixteen! Here that's a big deal. It means you can drive, get a job. It means we don't have to worry about who knows about us. It's the age of consent. That's something to be excited about."

"We still don't have to do anythin' special, Sammy. Just spendin' time with ye', that's plenty for me."

Sam looked dissatisfied. "Fine, if you don't know of anything you want to do, then I'll have to do something for you. You're gonna have a good ole' American birthday! Evans style!"

"Don't go to any trouble Sammy, I just want to spend the day with you." Sam nodded at him and grinned, already knowing in his head that he and his mother were planning something spectacular.

-ooo-

Monday morning, the entire school was abuzz with life. People were gossiping amongst each other more than usual, crowded out in the halls, a few even crying.

"What the heck happened?" Sam asked, but nobody was paying attention to them. "Let's find Rachel, if anyone know what's going on, it's her."

The pair walked to the next hall to find Rachel at her locker, smiling brightly. "What's going on around here?" Sam asked her.

"The most wonderful news! You won't believe it, it's finally happening!" she squealed in delight.

"Is Barbra Streisand doing a concert or something?" Sam replied. That was about the only thing he could imagine Rachel beaming over so wildly.

"Principal Figgins just announced.. oh I can barely contain myself!"

Luckily, Finn showed up at that point to join in the excitement. "Did you guys hear about the slushie machine?"

"No… did it blow up or something?" Sam asked.

"Well, no, but close enough. The school board declared that it had to be removed. They're taking it out of the cafeteria right now," he explained.

"You mean…" Sam began.

"No more slushie facials!" came the cry of three more glee club members; Tina, Mike, and Artie.

"Never again will I be subjected to low flying slushie cups. Do you know how many of my white shirts I had to throw away from the stains?" Artie exclaimed. "The stocks in bleach are gonna go down now that I won't need as much!"

"Wow, this is amazing," Rory commented. "Too bad they didn't do that sooner."

They stood lined up next to the lockers as the large drink machine was being wheeled down the hall toward the slushie truck that would be taking the beloved ice treat maker out of the school forever.

The rest of the day, most of the student body was in mourning over the loss of their beloved slushie machine, but every single glee club member was all smiles, elated at their newfound freedom from sticky syrups and cold ice.

-ooo-

Coach Roz seemed more full of herself than usual. She had her guppies racing up and down the lanes like sharks were chasing them.

"I had a dream, guppies! And I have a dream for you! If you plan to win an Olympic medal, then you have to work harder! I did my forty acres in the pool and look where I am now!"

_I 'ave to give her credit. She had her dream and she got it with her determination. I hope I can be that way about somethin' someday._

"Rory Flanagan! Get your strange sounding self over here!" Roz ordered. "You got that fire in your eyes boy, that fires burnin' bright, but it's time to up your ante! I want to see you in that pool, and I want to see you swim some laps overhand."

Rory looked at her like she was nuts. He hadn't even practiced overhand since he had first tried out. He would have protested, but he had learned quickly that Coach Roz was never to be questioned. He was gonna have to do it at some point anyway.

Rory dove into the pool, then just kept going, popping back up to switch to an overhand technique. It was going alright at first, then it started to ache again.

"Come on, work that arm or it'll never do ya any good! Let's go!" Roz hollered to him. By the third lap it was really aching bad, but Coach Roz kept urging him on, helping him to power through it.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Roz shouted. "Two more, two more!"

Rory wanted to stop, wanted to just quit flailing his arms and rest. He wanted to lay back and float, let his body relax and quit moving, but none of that was an option. If he stopped, Coach Roz would throw him off the team, and that would be entirely too humiliating. He'd never be able to face Sam again, either.

Wincing (which is not the easiest thing to do underwater without swallowing the pool), he forced himself to keep going. He kept telling himself it was only two more laps.

When he finally reached the end of his laps, Roz shouted for him to get on to the locker room and dress out.

He stood alone in the shower room, the water so hot it was making a thick steam cloud. He stood sideways so the water was rushing directly on his shoulder, heating the muscles. His skin felt on fire from the heat, but his arm itself felt like it was burning deep inside.

He wanted to rip his arm out of the socket but it would go away soon enough. It was getting better.

He was just finishing up as the football team was coming in from practice. He was already dressed, thankfully. Anytime he was around the buffer guys who had more muscle and bigger builds, he felt self-conscious and inadequate since he was smaller framed.

-ooo-

"I think tomorrow I want to sing my Irish song for glee club," Rory stated in the middle of a heated game of  _Madden NFL._

Sam dropped his controller in excitement. "Wait! You promised you'd sing to me first! In Irish I mean!"

"I will, now pick up ye'r controller and take ye'r penalty," he replied.

"Huh? Oh, oh yeah. I forgot in my excitement," Sam said, hanging over the side of the bed to pick the controller up off the floor. He started to slide just a little, so Rory grabbed him by the waistband of his jeans.

Sam pulled himself up and kissed him, started to put his hands all over him. Rory kissed him but then pushed him off. "Hey, what the-?"

Rory got up and turned off the lights, then sat next to him. "Just be quiet, listen to my voice, Sammy," he said softly. Sam grinned as Rory climbed into his lap, facing him in the darkness.

He began to sing softly, the words making no sense to Sam, but sounding beautiful nonetheless. The words flowed from Rory's lips like water, smooth and pure.

When he finally stopped, Sam was mesmerized, as if locked in a trance by magic. Rory leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sam's and just stayed there.

Moments later, Sam snapped out of it, and began kissing him passionately.

"That was beautiful," Sam whispered. "I don't know what it meant, but it sounded amazing."

"It's called  _Buachaill on Eirne_ , it's about a boy from Ireland. Appropriate, don't ye' think?"

"Very. Is that what you're gonna sing tomorrow?"

"I think so. I printed out a translation so e'eryone knows what it means."

"You're so smart, Rory. A lot smarter than me sometimes," Sam admitted.

"No, Sam. Ye' have dys- dys- what was the word again?"

"Dyslexia."

"Yes. Ye' have dyslexia. Ye' can't help that. Ye' try hard, it's a lot to o'ercome. I admire that, Sammy."

Sam shook his head. "It doesn't explain my bad math skills or crappy grades in science."

"What does any of that matter? Ye'r smart enough in ye'r own ways. Ye' don't have to be a math genius or know Mars from Venus or how to mix chemicals to make pipe bombs. Ye' know what ye' love. Ye' know what's important to ye'."

"How is it you manage to make me feel better about myself any time I need it?"

Rory grinned, his eyes sparkling even in the dark. "It's leprechaun magic, but it only works on boys named Sam Evans. There's only one of those that this leprechaun knows."

"For a wee little lad, you sure aren't wee little down here," Sam said mischievously, reaching down and groping Rory's crotch.

Rory kissed him, then pushed him onto his back, lifting up his shirt. He kissed the center of Sam's chest, tracing down the groove between his abs with his tongue. When he got to the waistband of his jeans, he unbuttoned and unzipped them, pulled them down to his knees.

Before he started to do anything else, he yanked his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor, quickly followed by his pants and boxers so that he was completely naked. He then leaned down and took Sam completely in his mouth without hesitation.

Sam gasped louder than he meant to at the sudden sensation of his boyfriend's hot mouth on him. "Oh my god, I didn't expect that!" he hissed.

Rory didn't say anything; instead he just kept sucking, massaging Sam's thick cock with his tongue. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and went down on him until his throat was wrapped around Sam's cock.

"Oh god, if you keep doing that I'm gonna-" but Sam's words were lost as pleasure overtook him before he could speak, his body spasming as he shot spurt after spurt of thick cum down Rory's greedy throat.

Rory gulped it all down with a fiery hunger, as if the seed was life. He drained his man's balls until he couldn't stand it anymore, Sam finally having to pull his head off of him. The boy's mouth may have come unlatched from his cock, but it went directly to his mouth, an almost desperate kissing session taking place as Rory's naked body rubbed against Sam's bared abs and chest.

Rory bucked his hips until the friction forced him to cum, moaning into Sam's mouth. The heat of the sticky seed between them spread but before it could make a mess, Rory leaned down and licked his own semen off of Sam's stomach until there was nothing left but what was on his own belly. He then licked his lips and sighed happily.

"Oh. My. God," Sam breathed. "That was amazing. Hotter than anything, ever."

Rory giggled, muttered something in Irish that ended with a bizarre look in his eyes, a hunger and desire for more.

"What did you just say?"

"It's very dirty, Sam, do ye' really want to hear me say it in English?" he teased.

"Yes. Tell me what you said you naughty little Irishman," Sam replied back.

Rory leaned over and whispered in Sam's ear. "I said, I'm hungry for ye' to fuck me, and fuck me until I beg ye' to stop, and then still keep going."

"Wow, that  _is_  dirty."

"Ye' told me to surprise you sometime, didn't ye'?"

"Yeah, I just didn't expect such aggression. It's hot," Sam admitted.

"If it's so hot then fuck me like I told ye' to. I want to feel it for days," Rory demanded.  _I feel a little stupid saying this stuff, but it gets him hot, and it gets me kinda hot too. He wanted a little something spicy, so now he gets it._

Sam kicked off his pants the rest of the way, threw his shirt on the floor, and pushed Rory onto his stomach. He then pulled his hips up and positioned him so that the boy's ass was right in front of his still hard cock. Sam reached back to the nightstand, grabbed the lube, and slathered it on his cock, then used his finger to moisten up his target.

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Do what I tell ye'," Rory stated. He gave his orders in Irish again, Sam recognizing the phrases from the first time he said it.

Following his instruction, Sam steading himself and started to slowly push himself in. Rory grunted at the sudden intrusion of the thick member, bit his bottom lip, clutched the sheets in his fists, his entire ass feeling like it was lighting up on fire.

"You okay?"

Rory said something else in Irish, which was new, but the tone said it all: Fuck me, and fuck me good.

Sam complied and thrust himself the rest of the way in. He felt Rory's ass clench around him, could sense his whole body stress, but he begged for more. Afraid to hurt him, Sam still went easy on him, but soon Rory was pushing himself against him, forcing Sam to drill into him faster and deeper.

Taking the cue, Sam finally found his rhythm, grabbing onto Rory's hips and bucking into him, balls deep. With every thrust, the boy quietly moaned into the pillow he had taken to biting to curb the bit of pain. With one hand he reached under himself and started stroking himself, getting closer and closer with every slam into his tender prostate.

It took longer for them to cum since it was their second go around. It took nearly twenty minutes of rigorous sex before Sam was able to blow a second load deep inside his boyfriend, followed by Rory's own load on the sheets.

"I will feel that for a week," Rory sighed when Sam finally pulled out of him. "But it is well worth it."

"That was just beyond words," Sam stated breathlessly. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

Rory chuckled. "Oh it hurt plenty. But then it didn't. Then it felt so amazing I couldn't stand it. I wanted ye' to go on forever. I felt kind o' stupid sayin' those things to ye', but it was fun. It was like I was someone else for a little while, someone wild and crazy. Someone I've never been before."

"Sometimes that can be fun, to cut loose a little. To step outside yourself. That was me in the tub before. I didn't think I would ever, you know, want to receive like that. I think your wild side is a little wilder than mine though."

Rory blushed, but Sam couldn't tell in the dark. "Ye' think maybe I overdid it a little?"

Sam hugged him. "No, no, not at all. It was primal and hot and sexy. And tiring!"

"Tiring for ye'? Try tiring for me! I'm the one who had to handle ye'r huge manhood! That is so big when it's inside," Rory claimed.

"Haha, I like this wild side of you. But don't let your normal side go away. I like the normal Rory, too."

"Oh don't worry. Both Rory's are here to stay. Ye' just ne'er know which one ye' may get!" he teased more. "Honestly I don't know if I can manage that again. I felt really stupid talking all dirty. But… it was like in those videos, ye' know? Like a fantasy."

"It's not stupid, it's a different side of you. You know I'm not gonna judge you, so don't be afraid to let your fantasies come out to play now and then," Sam explained. "But like I said, don't lose yourself in the fantasy world, either. I still want the tender, loving side. The more innocent side."

Rory considered Sam's explanation. He liked the raunchy sex they just had, but it wasn't the same, either. It was more about getting off than about making love.

"I want to go to sleep now though. I'm tired, and we have class tomorrow."

"Yeah, let's go to sleep. I'm worn out and so are you. Goodnight, baby. I love you," Sam said, giving him a kiss goodnight.

"I love ye' too, Sammy. Good night."

-ooo-

Mr. Schuester stood in front of the club, waiting for everyone to simmer down. "We have a special treat for you all today. Rory has offered to perform an Irish song for us, in his own native language."

"How are we supposed to understand that? We don't speak leprechaun," Santana scoffed.

"Maybe he comes with subtitles," Brittany suggested. "Like on T.V. Or maybe someone dubbed him over."

"Wouldn't a dub defeat the purpose?" Finn asked.

"I for one am very excited to hear it. It's fascinating to hear other languages, especially spoken by natives," Rachel declared in his defense.

"Natives sounds so racist," Mercedes noted to herself.

"Just let him sing, I bet it'll be pretty," Tina said, shushing them.

Rory took a sheaf of papers from his messenger bag and started to pass them around. "This are the lyrics in Irish Gaelic, and translated into English."

"Gay lick? Hold on, do I want to see this?" Puck asked, having never before heard of Gaelic.

"That sounds kind of hot," Brittany said. "I mean, if you're into that sort of thing."

"Gaelic is one word. It's the name of the Irish language. It has nothing to do with being gay," Kurt informed them, slightly annoyed.

"If all the comments from the peanut gallery are done…" Mr. Schue said, "Rory, bring down the house."

A look of confusion passed over the boy's face for a moment, but he assumed 'bring down the house' was another American slang phrase.

"This is called  _Buachaill on Eirne_ , which very roughly translates to 'Come by the Hills.' It's performed by my favorite Irish band, Celtic Thunder, but the song is popular with other groups as well," Rory explained. "I want to dedicate it to Sam, who gave me the idea to perform this."

Rory pressed a button on his iPod, playing the instrumental music to the song. He had hooked it up to a speaker so everyone could hear it.

As he began to sing, both he and Sam recalled the memory of the night before, sitting in the darkness, in the silence, his voice the only thing in the world at that moment.

_I'm a boy from Lough Erne and I could charm a nice young girl_

_I would not ask for her wealth as I am rich enough myself_

_I own a good part of Cork, two sides of the glen in Tyrone_

_And not to repeat myself I'm the heir of County Mayo_

_I will go tomorrow to make ale in the wood_

_Without a cot without a boat without a pinch of gruel with me_

_But leaves of the branches as bedclothes over my head_

_And think well done for you as you watch me from over there_

_A cowherd, my pet, I've never been accustomed to be_

_Instead of playing and drinking with the nice young women_

_on the mountain side_

_If I lost my riches I probably didn't lose my senses_

_And your kiss is no more to me now than a shoe worn for a year_

The words he sang were entirely in Gaelic, flowing just as smoothly as when he sang to Sam. Most of the group looked slightly confused, Brittany, Puck, Santana, and Sugar in particular, while the others seemed to just enjoy the melody.

When he was done, everyone, including the skeptics, gave him a hearty round of applause.

"I have no clue what word went to which but that sounded amazing," Artie commented.

"Can you sing it in English?" Brittany asked.

"No. The words don't translate properly for it to sound the same," Rory answered.

Mr. Schue smiled and gave him a pat on the back. "That was great, Rory. Definitely nice to hear something from another culture."

Rory took a slight bow and sat down, satisfied with his performance.

"Okay guys, Thursday we start working on our selections for the voting performance after the contest. We don't have an excessive amount of time to practice, but we've done amazing things in short periods of time, so I have faith in you," Mr. Schue announced.

"Who is competing?" Sugar asked, almost as if it was pointless to hold a contest – after all everyone knew she, like Rachel, felt that themselves were the choice pick.

"We have…." He began, looking at his list, "Rachel and Finn, Kurt and Blaine, Mike and Tina, Sam and Rory, and Santana and Brittany, and Mercedes and Artie."

What was surprising was that Sugar wasn't entering, considering her ill-placed amount of self-confidence.

They spent the rest of the session throwing ideas back and forth on which songs to perform. Ideas ranged from new to old, rock to show tunes. One thing the group was bad for was selections – everyone had their own tastes and desires to be brought to the spotlight.

-ooo-

After swim practice the next day, Rory found he had a text message from Blaine waiting on him.

_A friend of mine from Dalton is having a get together this weekend; do you and Sam want to join us?_

Rory wasn't sure what Dalton was, but a get-together sounded pretty fun. To his knowledge they didn't have any other plans, either.

_I'll ask Sam but it sounds fun. What's a Dalton?_

Rory didn't know just how amusing his question was, but Blaine replied to him that Dalton was his old school. When he met Sam in the library he asked him about the party, to which he then replied to Blaine that they would be joining them.

"I sure hope this is a dry party," Sam said offhandedly.

"Dry party? You 'ave wet parties too?" Rory asked.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "No no no, a dry party is a party where they don't drink alcohol. No such thing as a wet party."

"What's so bad about drinking at a party?"

"Oh god, if you only knew! Last year, Rachel had a party when her dads were out of town, and the whole glee club got wasted. The hangover was awful and we had a performance in front of the school the next day. Brittany and Santana puked all over the stage in front of everybody."

"Wow, nobody got in trouble?"

"Nah. We got lucky. Figgins thought it was special effects and we were doing an alcohol awareness demonstration since it was alcohol awareness week. Mr. Schue chewed us out but told us if we ever needed someone to pick us up, give him a call. I don't think any of us got too wasted after that though."

Rory laughed. "I guess ye' just can't hold ye'r liquor," he said.

"Oh, and you can?" Sam challenged.

"Better than ye' I bet. Don't forget e'eryone thinks all we do is drink o'er there. We don't, but I can still handle meself alright," Rory replied.

"I don't think we'll be finding out anytime soon," Sam replied. He kissed him on the forehead. "I'm not too big on drinking after that incident."

"Not to change the subject, but I thought about our song," Rory stated. "It's not t.A.T.u. though. It's Bette Midler.  _The Wind Beneath My Wings_ _._  We'll split up the lyrics and make it amazing."

Sam shrugged. "Sounds good. Even if we don't win, it'll be fun, and I've been anxious to sing together."

-ooo-

Performance days were always a little nerve racking, particularly when it was a contest. Pressure was high to win the coveted spot, particularly when they were up against Rachel and Finn, who almost seemed like the winners by default.

"And our last performance is Sam and Rory, with  _Wind Beneath my Wings_  by Bette Midler. Typically it's not a duet, and often in a higher key, so I'm eager to see how they pull this off," Mr. Schue said.

Choreography wasn't under the microscope here, which was fortunate since they had barely rehearsed. Without further hesitation, the duo began to sing.

Sam began with the first verse, at a slightly lower octave than the original.

_It must have been cold there in my shadow,_

_To never have sunlight on your face._

_You were content to let me shine, that's your way._

_You always walked a step behind._

Rory picked up the second verse through.

_So I was the one with all the glory,_

_While ye' were the one with all the strength._

_A beautiful face without a name for so long._

_A beautiful smile to hide the pain._

Then the two of them joined voices and sang the chorus together.

_Did you ever know that you're my hero,_

_And everything I would like to be?_

_I can fly higher than an eagle,_

_Because you are the wind beneath my wings._

Their voices sounded perfect together, the ideal blend of low range and mid range. Again it was Sam's turn for a verse, with Rory joining him in the very last line of the verse.

_It might have appeared to go unnoticed,_

_But I've got it all here in my heart._

_I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it._

_I would be nothing without you._

They then went for the chorus three more times, once each solo and the third together.

By the end, they were filled with such emotion and power that both Tina and Rachel had watery eyes as they thought about their own respective gentlemen. When they were completely done, most of the other club mates cheered and clapped, except for Santana, who didn't seem to enjoy anyone's performance but her own.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Mr. Schuester said, motioning for them to return to their seats. "I'll be conferring with our judges and next meeting we will announce a winner! They will get the duet spot and dinner at BreadstiX!"

Again, more cheers. When they settled back down, Mr. Schue declared that they were going to work on ideas for Regionals.

-ooo-

"How do ye' think we did?"

"I think we did pretty well," Sam answered his boyfriend on their way home.

Rory smiled at him. "I'm getting a lot better at me swimmin'. The coach said she wants me racing on Monday. I'm kind o' nervous."

"You have no reason to be nervous. You'll do fine. Wanna do some practice laps later?"

Laughter erupted from the younger boy. "Ye'r slow, Sammy! I beat ye' before, remember?"

"I uh, I was holding back?" Sam replied questioningly. Rory wasn't convinced and merely kept laughing.

"I'll race ye, winner names his prize when I win," Rory challenged.

"Deal. But I'm broke, so keep your prize reasonable. If you win, that is," Sam told him.

They only had a half an hour before Sam had to head in for work, but they managed to fit in a quick race. Nobody was home, so they didn't bother with swim trunks. It was a close race, and out of three laps, Rory won two.

"Okay, fine, name your trophy, Ror," Sam said in defeat, hanging onto the ledge of the pool, catching his breath.

"I'll tell ye' tonight after ye' get home. I need time to think about what I want," Rory answered with a very devious look in his eyes.

"Well then, I look forward to it. Just remember, keep it reasonable."

Rory grinned at him, already thinking about what he wanted. "Have a good night at work. I love ye'," he said, kissing him. Rory stayed in the pool to keep practicing his laps. What he didn't think about was the fact that he was still without his trunks.

A little while later, Mr. Evans came into the pool room, calling for him.

"Getting your speed up I see," he said as Rory resurfaced.

"I have to race next week. I was just trying to get some laps in before everyone got home," the boy replied.

"Well uh, not that I care, us being guys and all, but uh, you might want to consider trying some swim shorts. I don't want the Missus having heart failure," Mr. Evans said, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

Rory suddenly realized he was in the pool naked. He quickly covered himself, turning such a deep red that even a tomato or strawberry would be jealous.

"Oh no! I completely forgot! I'm so sorry! I'm so embarrassed!" Rory called back.

"Kid, you ain't got a thing I haven't seen on a daily basis, but like I said, the Missus and the kids. I'll set you a towel right here," he said, putting a folded towel next to the ledge of the pool. "Keep up the good work though."

"Y-y-yes sir. I'm really sorry, Mr. Evans. It won't happen again, I promise," Rory stammered. Mr. Evans chuckled again and left, but the poor boy's face was still the color of a beet.  _Sam is going to kill me for sure._

Sam didn't kill him, however. Instead, he laughed so hard he had tears streaming down his face. "My dad actually caught you?"

"Yes. I was so humiliated. I couldn't get covered quickly enough," Rory replied, starting to blush again.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, baby. You're well equipped. No need to be shy," Sam chuckled.

"Shut up, Sammy! I was embarrassed! Ye'r pap saw me naked!" He punched him lightly in the arm.

Sam feigned injury, falling backward onto the bed. "Such an abusive boyfriend! I never had this problem with girls! I'm going back to the dark side!"

"I thought  _I_  was the dark side," Rory replied.

"Maybe. Maybe not. You still have a prize to claim, Mr. Flanagan. Name it," Sam declared.

Rory got the naughty look on his face again. Then he blushed just a little bit. "I want, ye' know."

Sam shook his head. "No, no I don't know."

"Stop being difficult, Sammy!"

"I'm not difficult, I'm a simple man, I need things spelled out for me."

Rory grumbled. "Actually, I just want to cuddle in bed with ye'. Wrapped up in our sheets, watching a movie. I just want to feel ye'r arms around me."

Sam cocked his head. "Ror, you okay? You sound a little down or something."

"Just a little homesick I guess. And tired, and just, just wanting some o' ye'r attention."

"You can have my attention any time you want to. Strip down and get in bed. I'm gonna wash up and I'll be right in. I'll wrap you up nice and tight until you're fast asleep."

"Okay," he replied. As Sam was about to walk out the door, he called to him once again. "Sammy? I love you."

"I love you too, Ror. Be in shortly."

-ooo-

_I'll be home late tonight. Have to help with closing the shop. Love you._

Rory frowned at the text message he received from Sam. Friday night and he was going to end up just sitting at home, by himself. He typed out a reply, then tossed his phone onto the nightstand.

_Love you too. See you when you get home._

He didn't feel like playing video games, and he didn't have any homework to do, and he was tired of just about everything. He started to doze off watching a rerun of some mindless show on the TV when there was a knock on the door.

"Huh? Who is it?" he asked, coming out of his daze.

"Mr. Rory? Can I come in?" came the sweet voice of his 'little sister.'

"Sure," he replied. He flipped the switch on the lamp and sat up. "What's up?"

"Can I watch TV with you? Stevie went to bed early because he got tired playing baseball with daddy," Stacy asked, giving her best 'cute little girl' face.

Rory smiled at her and nodded. She grinned happily and climbed up onto the bed next to him. "What do ye' want to watch?"

"Powerpuff Girls!" she exclaimed. Not exactly what he felt like watching, but at least it was some company. He picked up the remote and changed the channel. The title characters were busy battling some giant beast.

He wrapped his arm around the little girl and held onto her while she watched the show, squealing in excitement every time the girls landed a winning blow. There must have been a marathon on because they watched at least two more episodes.

"Mr. Rory, are you okay? You look sad," she observed during a commercial break.

Rory smiled at her. She was such an observant child, always picking up on the simplest things that most other people might not even notice.

"I'm okay. I just wish Sam was home," he answered.

"I'll stay with you until he gets home. I like you, Mr. Rory. I don't want you to be sad," she stated, hugging him.

 _I wish I had a little sister like her. I mean, Seamus is great but he's shy and doesn't ever act like this,_  he thought.

Stacy nuzzled up against him, holding on as if she were trying to keep him safe from something. She finally fell asleep; perfect timing as the mini-marathon ended. He very carefully picked her up and took her to her bed, laying her down ever so gently. Rory kissed her on the forehead, pulled up her covers, and went back to his own room.

Rory flipped the channel back to something else. It was still mindless but anything was better than cartoon supergirls. Within minutes he had fallen asleep.

Sam crept into the room, leaving the light off, noticing that his boyfriend was sound asleep on the bed. He still had his jeans and t-shirt on, and the TV was still playing so it was obvious he had been waiting up for him.

 _He is so cute like that. Asleep and innocent. Who am I kidding, he_ is _innocent. I don't want to wake him up._

Sam quietly shucked off his clothes, then very carefully managed to wiggle Rory's pants off of him. He pulled the covers up over him then crawled in next to him. He kissed him on top of his head and pulled the boy into his arms, surprisingly not waking him up.

The last time Sam had prayed was in the hospital, when Rory was in critical condition. It was time to say another prayer – this time one of thanks.  _Thank you so much, so much. I don't know what I did to be so lucky. Don't take him away from me. I couldn't take it._

As Sam prayed, he started to fade into sleep, the words leaving his mind before he even thought them all the way.

Around two in the morning, Rory woke for just a minute to find himself pulled into Sam's arms, his pants missing.  _He wanted me to be comfortable. So considerate. His whole family is great._  He fell back asleep before he could think anything else.

-ooo-

Saturday evening was the get together Blaine had mentioned. He and Kurt would pick them up around seven and they would go as a group.

"Who is this that's throwing the party anyway?" Sam asked during the drive.

"An old Warbler friend. He said we're gonna meet at his place, then go to a club later on," Blaine answered.

"A club? How are we gonna get in?" Sam inquired next.

"With this," Blaine replied, passing back a fake ID.

"How did you get this?" Sam added.

Blaine smirked. "Another friend. Kurt got me your picture to put on it."

Sam looked at Rory, then checked his fake ID, then looked at him again. "Is he really going to pass for eighteen?"

"Sure. He looks young but the ID says eighteen. I doubt they'll pay too much attention anyway since we'll be part of a larger group."

-ooo-

They arrived at Blaine's friend's house, the place already filled with people.

"This looks like a frat house," Kurt said with slight distaste.

"It is. Don't worry, it's gay-friendly," Blaine replied. They got out of the truck, Blaine in the lead with Rory right behind him. Kurt strayed back, giving Sam a tug on the arm.

Sam paused, looking back at Kurt. "Hey, what's up?"

"I don't know who's here, but if you run into a guy named Sebastian Smythe, he's bad news. If he's here, keep a close eye on Rory. He's a predator, and I have my doubts about his… physical morals," Kurt said quietly, not wanting his boyfriend to hear.

"Personal experience?" Sam asked.

"Indeed," Kurt said simply. "He has his eyes on Blaine, and no offense, but Rory is vulnerable to a guy like Sebastian."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, slightly offended.

Kurt met his eyes with a serious glare. "You know I don't mean harm, Sam. Rory is young, and eager for friends, and just a little bit naïve. Even you can't deny that fact. A guy like Sebastian will try and take advantage of that, and while I have no inclination that Rory would cheat, I don't want to see him getting into trouble, either."

Sam bit his bottom lip in deep thought. "Thanks, Kurt. You help me keep a look out for Rory, and I'll help you look out for Blaine. Deal?"

"You've got a deal," Kurt agreed, shaking hands with him. The two hurried along so as not to get left behind.

"Took ye' long enough," Rory joked.

"We were just admiring the house. I've never seen a frat house in person and I found it interesting," Kurt replied. It was the lamest explanation ever given, since it looked like an ordinary house, but with several guys hanging about.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to my friends. Fellow Warblers, old and new," Blaine said.

They walked inside the door to find around ten guys standing around, talking, drinks in hand. A quick sniff of the air showed no signs of alcohol.  _Good, it's a dry party,"_ Sam thought.  _One less complication if this Sebastian guy is hanging around._

They followed Blaine inside, toward the living room where their host was chatting with two more Warblers. Sam felt another tug on his arm.

"See that guy over there? Talking to the blonde in the- ugh, who picked out his outfit? His mother?"

"Kurt? Focus?"

"Oh yes. That guy talking to the blonde in the outfit from the seventies. That's Sebastian Smythe."

Before they could make it to their host, Sebastian spotted them, and approached, hugging Blaine and grinning an almost devilish smile toward Kurt.

 _This is going to be one tense night,_  Sam thought.


	15. Episode 15: Parties, Performances, Power, and Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Phew, just pushing along here! So many ideas left in my head, and I am thinking of doing a few 'one-shots' completely unrelated to this story. I did that with my Final Fantasy fics and they were pretty popular. It also gives me a chance to explore other aspects of the characters, other pairings, and sometimes just good ole' raunchy smut. ;) If there is anything in particular you are wanting to see in this story or any other, by all means message me! You never know, you may have an awesome idea for a chapter that I never thought of and if I do use you as inspiration, I will give you a beta credit for that chapter._

**Recap:**  Last time Kurt and Blaine shared some steamy time in Sam's shower while the boys talked about relationships. The slushie machine took the field trip outside never to come back, depressing everyone but the glee club because now they won't have to worry about slushie facials. Rory started moving to tougher swim training, then he brought out his freaky side for Sam, who thought it was a major turn on. Rory sang a song in Irish, then they sang their duet and after that the four gay men left for a party to find Sebastian searching for a playtoy and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 15: Parties, Performances, Power and Passion**

Sebastian Smythe sauntered up to Blaine and his trio of friends, grinning like a cat in heat. Kurt didn't even pretend to like him; he returned his smile with a sarcastic grin that could clearly be read as 'screw you.'

"Good to see you again Blaine, Kurt. Who are your friends?" Sebastian inquired in an arrogant tone.

"These are my friends and fellow glee club members," Blaine said. "This is Sam Evans, and Rory Flanagan." Sebastian held out his hand to Sam to shake, and then to Rory, but when he shook Rory's hand, he held on a little too long.

"Rory… that's Irish, isn't it?" he asked.

Rory smiled politely. "That it is. I'm an exchange student from Ireland. Nice to meet ye'," he said.

"The pleasure is certainly mine," Sebastian replied.

"We've been together for a few months now," Sam said, making sure to get the point across that Rory was off limits.

"Are you two joining us to the club later for the after party?" Sebastian asked, looking Rory up and down and not being shy about it one bit. He gave a slight smirk when he noticed Sam's subtle, disapproving gaze.

Blaine was side-tracked, speaking with another Warbler, but he quickly turned back around to answer him in the affirmative. "We even made sure to bring our IDs," he verified.

"There's no way you can be eighteen, is there?" Sebastian asked Rory, smiling.

"Me age is fifteen, almost sixteen. Blaine gave me an ID that says I'm eighteen though," Rory replied. He seemed oblivious to Sebastian's obvious flirtations.

Sebastian grinned again. "Oh, good, so I won't be the only kid there. I'm only just seventeen as of two months ago."

Kurt caught Sam's gaze, the two men trading looks of disgust at the blatant disrespect the Warbler was showing for either of them.

"So, Blaine, are we going to 'party' like last time, or keep it dry?"

"Keeping it dry this time, Sebastian. Not really looking to drink tonight," Blaine answered. His memory of pressuring Kurt into sex while drunk still haunted him on occasion. It was a dirty thing that he did, even though if he had his faculties about him he would never have done it. Instead, the alcohol took his guard down and let his hormones overtake him. It was the first time that Kurt had been truly furious with him, and rightly so.

Sebastian looked slightly disappointed, but didn't say anything in response. He excused himself to chat with another party guest, making sure to catch one last look at both Rory, and Blaine.

Blaine went on to introduce his friends to the other guests – all Warblers, some current, and some not. Kurt was already familiar with Wes, the host. He had graduated the year before, and Blaine would have been up for election to the council had he not left Dalton.

The party was under way, Sam and Rory sticking together as the outsiders. Their friends were conscious of their unfamiliarity with the others and did a good job including them on conversations, introductions, and covering background histories. Kurt did most of the tour guide role as Blaine flitted about from one place to another.

A couple of hours later, Sebastian found the small group once again.

"It looks like it might just be us tonight, gentlemen. Most of the others wanted to go to a straight club, and the only other 'family' were no-shows. I hope that won't stop us from having a good time," Sebastian said, his voice thick with confidence.

Kurt quickly suggested that Sebastian ride separately, his truck only fitting four people. Blaine politely offered to ride with him, much to Kurt's dismay, but he trusted Blaine fully, and didn't put up a fuss.

-ooo-

They arrived at the club in less than twenty minutes. It was the same club they had visited before –  _Scandals._  Kurt recalled it as rather classless, but he would tolerate it the best he could for the night.

The very butch and bulky bouncer let them in without any trouble, seeming not to care at all whether they were eighteen or twelve. He had no personality and was more involved with reading a physics textbook than actually bouncing. He had to be at least in his thirties, but there he was, studying like a teenager.

"Hmm, looks like there's a few more people here than last time," Sebastian observed. "I hope that doesn't mean I'll lose out on my dance partners."

"Who are you gonna dance with? Rory's all mine. I don't share," Sam said, trying to come off as playful, but not succeeding too well.

"Don't worry, Sammy, I won't hurt him. Just a little dancing between friends," Sebastian responded.

"Don't call me Sammy," the blonde replied. When the others cut him a look, he added, "Pet peeve, sorry."

Sebastian gave him a half smile as he traipsed up to the bar. He started to chat with the tender, probably trying to con a drink out of him despite their declaration of it being a dry outing. Blaine joined him a moment later, ordering for the rest of them.

"I don't like him," Sam said flatly.

"Be nice, Sammy. He's just friendly. Give him a chance," Rory scolded. "Ye' won't make friends if ye' don't give them a chance."

Sam sighed. "You're right. I'll see what he's all about, okay?"

Blaine came back with four drinks in hand, passing out three of them to his friends and keeping one for himself. "Coke on the rocks!"

There was an awkward silence as they searched for something to say between each other. Sebastian could feel the tension coming from Kurt and Sam and seemed almost fueled by it.

"Come on, let's go out and dance," Blaine suggested. All five of them went out on the dance floor, grooving to the loud pop music. It was definitely a gay club based on the selection of music – mostly Lady Gaga, Madonna, Katy Perry and other similar artists generally attributed to the gay community.

During one of the slower songs, Sebastian sat at the bar, watching the two couples with jealousy in his eyes. None of them took notice, however, as they were enjoying each other far too much to worry about Sebastian Smythe.

"Phew, I need a break after that!" Blaine exclaimed.

"Me too," Rory agreed. He tossed back the last of his drink, set the cup down on the counter and grinned. "I'll be right back, need to use the restroom."

Barely five seconds later, Sebastian excused himself to the restroom as well. Kurt gave Sam a worried look. He didn't like it one bit. It smelled fishy.

In the bathroom, Rory stood at the urinal when he heard the door open. In walked Sebastian, who took the urinal right next to him, despite the rest of them being empty. Apparently he had never heard of proper bathroom etiquette when it came to placement at urinals.

"So, are you having a good time?" Sebastian asked casually.

"Oh I am," Rory answered. "I think Sam is enjoying himself too. He needs a break from working all week."

Sebastian smiled politely, not giving two hoots about anything relating to Sam. Instead, his eyes were beginning to casually wander toward Rory. He then shifted his eyes, peering down at the younger boy's genitals.

"Very nice," Sebastian stated.

"What is?" Rory asked, oblivious to Sebastian's stare.

"Your equipment. I was just admiring," Sebastian replied. Rory blushed and suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Um.. thank ye'," he said, not sure how to respond to such a statement. The term was unfamiliar slang, but noticing Sebastian's tone was enough to communicate what he was referring to.

Rory quickly zipped up, wanting to get out of Sebastian's staring eyes. He washed his hands and hurried out of the bathroom.

"Miss me?" he asked, returning to his friends.

Sam wrapped an arm around him, almost possessively. "Of course I did. I always do."

"How sweet," Sebastian cooed, joining them again. "You seem to admire him very much."

"I do. I guess you could say I'm a little protective, too," Sam noted to him. Kurt grinned at Sam's subtle hints to Sebastian about his boyfriend being off limits to him and anyone else who got any bright ideas.

"Back on the dance floor then?" Blaine suggested, seeing just the slightest tension. All five of them danced for the next two hours, the time flying by as they got lost in the music.

It was midnight before they decided to leave. Sebastian gave Blaine a hug goodbye, but noticeably just gave Kurt a nod. He did the same with Rory and Sam, making it a point to brush his hand along Rory's back in a suggestive manner.

"Good night. I hope to see you again," Sebastian said, his words sounding as if he were addressing them all, but both Sam and Kurt knew he was directing his words right at Rory and Blaine.

When they were returning home, Rory stayed in the truck a moment, talking more with Blaine. Kurt and Sam got out, Kurt giving the excuse of wanting to stretch his legs.

"See what I mean?" he asked Sam.

"Yep. The boy has brass balls to be flirting so openly with two men in relationships like that," Sam replied. "I don't like him, and I don't like the way he looks at either of our guys."

Rory hopped out of the truck, as did Blaine, the four men exchanging hugs and good nights.

"So… what did you think of Sebastian?" Sam asked while they were getting ready for bed.

"He seems… nice," Rory hesitated.  _Should I tell him about the bathroom? I don't want to upset him. Maybe we won't ever see him again and it won't matter._

"Mhmm. He's okay. He flirts a little too much for my liking."

"He does seem to like flirting with Blaine a lot," Rory replied, shrugging.

Sam frowned in the dark. "Yeah, and he isn't the only one he flirts with, too."

"What do ye' mean, Sammy?"

"He was flirting with you pretty hardcore, too," Sam said flatly.

"Ye' know I'm not good at seeing that. Don't ye' worry Sammy, nobody matters to me except ye'. That boy can flirt all day long and it won't do him a hill o' potatoes."

Sam smiled at that. "I love your little sayings. They're so funny. And I know. I don't worry about you. I just worry about him trying to do something stupid."

"Ye' worry for no reason," Rory assured him. "Good night, Sammy. I love ye'."

"I love you too. Get a good sleep, it's late and you wanted to go to mass in the morning, didn't you?"

"I do. I 'aven't been in a quite a while and I need to get back in the routine of going. I know ye' aren't Catholic, but if ye' could just give me a ride I would like it," Rory replied.

"I'll go with you. I may not be Catholic but I can still go and listen. Besides, it's an excuse to see you dressed up, and that always makes me smile."

"Ye'r silly. Good night."

_Yes, that makes me smile, and the mental picture of me punching Sebastian in the nose makes me smile, too. I'm not a violent person, but when it comes to me and mine, I don't play around. Azimio is all too familiar with that. Maybe he can share a hospital bed with Sebastian. Agh I need to stop. It's not good for me to be hateful._

-ooo-

The entire glee club was anxious for the meeting to start. This was the day Mr. Schuester was going to announce the winners of the duet contest. The competition was fierce, especially with Rachel and Finn.

Mr. Schue entered the room, already full of energy. "Okay guys, the moment you've all been waiting for!"

The crowd was silent, a rarity for them. Mr. Schue paused for effect, grinning. "You all did an excellent job, but we could only pick one pair. Miss Pillsbury and Coach Beiste labored long and hard trying to decide. Finn, drumroll please."

Finn jumped behind the drum set and gave a quick rumble.

"The winner is..." Mr. Schue was holding out, looking from one student to another. "Santana and Brittany!"

The two women jumped up screaming in excitement. "Hell yes!" Santana screeched. Rachel had a disappointed look on her face, but clapped politely nonetheless. It just added to the rest of her failing senior year. No NYADA, no class president, no performing in sectionals along with a week suspension. Yep, fabulous senior year so far.

"And to go along with the prize, they get dinner, on me, at BreadstiX!" Mr. Schue added. The two girls cheered even more for their favorite restaurant. When they simmered down, Mr. Schue made another announcement.

"But let's remember, there are no losers in this room. We were all thoroughly impressed with your performances; so on behalf of myself, Miss Pillsbury, and Coach Beiste, each pair gets a ten dollar gift certificate for the Lima Bean. A couple of coffees for those late night rehearsals."

Mr. Schue started passing out the coupons, smiling and congratulating each pair as he handed them out. "Great job guys! And don't forget, Friday is the school assembly of our choices for Regionals. We're having one extra practice on Wednesday to prepare."

Rory leaned over to Sam, whispering. "I 'ave swim practice tomorrow. I can't miss it."

"Don't worry, Mr. Schue will be cool, just tell him after glee."

After practice was over, Rory approached Mr. Schuester. "I need to talk to ye' a moment if ye' don't mind."

"Sure, Rory, what's up?"

"I 'ave swim practice on Wednesdays, and since I just joined, I really can't miss it."

"Hmm, I really could use you here, but I understand. When did you join the swim team?"

Rory smiled, happy that he wasn't upset with him. "Just recently. It's good for me body, getting me strength back and working me muscles again."

"I'm glad you're doing better. We were all worried about you. Miss Pillsbury told me what happened with the trial. I'm impressed and very proud of you, Rory. You made a really tough decision," Mr. Schue told him.

"Thank ye', sir," Rory replied. "I just did what I felt was the right thing to do. I didn't wanna ruin someone else's life the way he tried to ruin mine."

"That's admirable." Mr. Schue smiled again. "Say, let me know when your first competition is. I'll come to it."

"Sure. That'd be so awesome Mr. Schuester," Rory said as he left. Mr. Schuester watched as Sam threw him arm around him and they walked out of the choir room.

"They really are an adorable pair of boys, aren't they?" Miss Pillsbury said, entering the room from the other door. Mr. Schue turned around and gave her a quick peck.

"I can't say it makes any sense to me, Emma, homosexuality, but there is a lot of love between them. Blaine and Kurt, too. And even Santana and Brittany," Will replied.

Emma smiled as she batted her doe eyes. "That just goes to show you that love knows no bounds. Just look at us, who would have thought?"

"I still can't believe he asked them to reduce Azimio's sentence," Will said, referencing Rory. "I don't think I could have done that if it were me. I probably would have pushed for life in prison."

Emma smiled at him again. Her smile always put him at ease. It put anyone at ease. How could someone not want to hug her and smile back when her face radiated cheer? "You never know until you're faced with it. What you would do."

"You know he joined the swim team? I told him I'd go to his first competition. You should come with me," Will said.

"That'd be great. You know, I'm kind of surprised Sam didn't join the football team again. As I recall, he loved it and was very good."

Will scratched his head. "That's true. Then again, the season had already started. Maybe Shannon wasn't taking tryouts after the fact."

"I think it would just be nice if they got back to a normal teenager's life and get past this... garbage," Emma replied.

"I think they're on their way. Come on, let's go home."

-ooo-

"Do you guys want to hit up the Lima Bean after rehearsal?" Blaine asked during lunch on Thursday.

"Sure. I have to work but we can make a quick stop," Sam replied.

"I can drive Rory home if you want, so he doesn't have to run out," Kurt offered. Sam thanked him and agreed to meet up at the Lima Bean when rehearsal ended for the day.

The group spent their gift certificates, getting coffee and brownies - the big kind with chocolate chunks in the middle and chocolate frosting on the top with large scoops of vanilla ice cream on the side. They were huge, and certainly not on any of their diets, but after a long week of rigorous rehearsals and swim practice for Rory, they deserved a treat.

"Oh jeez, look who's here," Kurt said under his breath toward Sam.

"Well well well, if it isn't my favorite gentlemen," came the disgustingly friendly yet patronizing tone of Sebastian Smythe.

Blaine and Rory both smiled, greeting him, while Kurt and Sam both have polite half-smiles and hellos. Both of the younger teens were completely oblivious to the fact that Sebastian was eager to jump them, if not together then one at a time.

"Preparing for Regionals?" Sebastian asked, directing his gaze toward both of his prey.

"Yeah. Long rehearsal week, and a performance in front of the school tomorrow afternoon," Blaine answered.

"I'm sure you'll be great. Any solos?"

"Some, yeah. Mr. Schue likes to try and spread them around more since the whole Troubletones drama," Blaine replied.

Sebastian grinned and then turned to Rory. "I'd love to hear you sing some time. That thick Irish accent. I bet it sounds amazing."

Rory gulped. When he sang, his accent dropped quite a bit, so it wasn't anything special to him. What bothered him was the way Sebastian looked at and talked to him. It sounded hungry, predatorial. But, Sebastian knew he had a boyfriend, so he wouldn't try anything, would he?

Then he remembered the incident in the bathroom.  _Should I tell Sam about that? I wasn't going to, but if he keeps talkin' to me like this, I just might 'ave to. He keeps talking to Blaine like that, too. Doesn't he 'ave any respect for Kurt, either?_

Sebastian made a little more small talk, barely saying anything to Sam or Kurt. It was sickening how obvious he was about his flirtation.

"I don't trust him any further than I can throw him," Sam muttered to Kurt.

"I don't trust him any more than a run in my stocking," Kurt muttered back. "I don't want to start anything but he's really pushing it."

"If you get the urge to punch him, let me know first so I can record it and put it on YouTube," Sam joked, but only halfway.

"Since when did you get such a violent streak?" Kurt teased quietly.

"Since that jerk started moving in on our men," Sam replied sharply. Kurt grinned. He appreciated the fact that Sam referred to both of their boyfriends, and not just his. He was just as upset with the guy for trying to hook Blaine as well.

Sebastian finally bade them all farewell, ensuring that he would be at Regionals to see the performance.

"I really don't like him," Sam declared when Sebastian was just barely out of earshot.

"He seems nice, Sammy. He just wants to be friends," Rory argued halfheartedly. In his head, however, he was wondering if he really believed that himself.

Sam smirked. "Friends. Hmph."

"Someone's a little jealous I think," Blaine teased. "He's harmless, Sam. He's just a big flirt. Don't take him seriously. Nobody else does."

Kurt stayed silent as he had already voiced his opinion once before, and Blaine had said something similar.  _Sometimes it really bites having a boyfriend who gives everyone the benefit of the doubt._

"Okay guys, I gotta get to work. Thanks for taking him home, Kurt," Sam said. "See you when I get home. Love you," he said to Rory, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Love ye' too, Sammy."

"You two are adorable," Blaine commented. "Absolutely adorable."

Rory blushed a little. "He's the adorable one. The sweetest person I e'er met."

"I said the same thing about Blaine a year ago," Kurt added in.

After they spent another half hour at the Lima Bean, they decided to go on home and start homework. Before he dropped Rory off, Kurt gave him a friendly warning. "Be careful around Sebastian. He doesn't care if someone has a boyfriend or not."

"Sam has nothing to worry about," Rory replied as he got out of the truck. Before he shut the door he said one last thing. "Thank ye' Kurt, for watchin' out for me. Sam would appreciate it, too."

-ooo-

Mr. Schuester was giving his standard pep talk to the students before they were going to go out for their performance. Three songs, in front of the whole school in the gym, the portable stage already set up.

"Why do we bother, Mr. Schue? They all hate us, do you really think they care enough to give us an honest vote?" Artie asked, sighing.

"He does have a point. They think we're a bunch of talentless losers, even though really, they're the ones who have no talent, especially compared to me. Not Asperger's," Sugar said. She had dropped her token excuse most of the time, but when giving a particularly spicy opinion she still let it slip in there for emphasis.

"Guys, I've told you before, we have to buck up. It's actually really good practice for us, performing in front of hostile audiences. If any of you plan to make it past high school glee club, you need to get used to that," Mr. Schue reminded them.

Principal Figgins was out on the stage, already announcing their first number.

"And now, without further ado, I present the New Directions, performing  _Take it Off_ , again by rapper Key dollar sign hah."

The last time they performed a Ke$ha number, it ended in disaster with Brittany and Santana vomiting all over the place. Everyone got in their places, and the lights went on. The music started to play and as before, Brittany was the lead as Ke$ha.

Everyone was actually enjoying the song, grooving to it, some even mouthing the words along. By the time the song was over, there were actually cheers from the crowd.

The curtains closed and again Principal Figgins emerged to announce the next number. "And now, without further ago, I present the New Directions, performing  _Marry the Night_  by the Lady Gaga." It was incredibly too funny how scripted his speeches sounded, right down the almost exact same wording with each introduction and strange pronunciations of the singers' names.

Once more the curtains opened, and Mercedes began the first verse, the others joining in during the chorus. The ladies traded off, with Rachel and Santana singing two other verses. Again the crowd was receptive.

"And now, without further ado, the New Directions, performing  _Sweet Dreams_  by the Youth Rith Mics. This is the final number and you will return to class after the voting has been finished," Figgins announced. Only he could butcher the name Eurythmics that badly.

Sweet Dreams came out exceptionally well, showcasing their wonderful talent. Rachel and Santana swapped as lead while everyone else sang choruses. When they finished, they stood in a line on the stage, throwing their hands in their air and taking a bow as one.

The crowd quieted down as the teens rose from their bow, and then a horrible sound was heard. It was a loud squeak, like a door that needed oil, and then splashes of color fell from the sky, sparkling in the spotlights.

The multicolored slushies fell on the heads of everyone in the glee club like a waterfall, syrup and ice spraying everywhere, covering every one of them. The girls screamed, the boys yelled angrily, and the entire auditorium was dead silent for a full five seconds before they erupted in an explosion of laughter.

The only ones not laughing were Mr. Schuester, Principal Figgins, Coach Beiste, Coach Roz, Miss Pillsbury, a few other random teachers, and even Sue Sylvester herself was speechless.

The slushie shower was finished off by the loud slam as the makeshit platform and buckets that the slushies had been poured from fell off the rafters. Nobody was hit, but the sound was enough to startle them. The curtains closed, and the horrified students made their way off the stage and to the dressing room.

-ooo-

The bathrooms were far too small to accommodate the students, so they split up into their gender-specific locker rooms. Slushie trailed behind them as they walked, leaving sticky puddles in the halls.

"This is bullshit!" Puck yelled as he slammed his fist into one of the gym lockers. "Fucking bullshit!"

"Who would do such a thing?" Mike asked, grabbing towels and passing them around, leaving colored handprints behind.

"I am never performing in front of the school again!" Kurt screamed.

"This never would have happened at Dalton," Blaine exclaimed. "When is this school going to go zero tolerance?"

"You know, I figured when Azimio and Karofsky left, this shit would stop. They took the slushie machine out! Where did they get it all?" Finn demanded to know.

"The bigger question is who has so much money they can waste it on gallons of syrup and ice?" Artie added.

All of the boys were busy stripping down, heading to the showers to clean off. The rain of slush had soaked their clothes more than a single slushie, so they were all going to have to resort to wearing gym clothes the rest of the afternoon.

"You okay?" Sam asked Rory as they were drying off and getting dressed.

"Yeah. Angry, but I'm okay."

The girls were more vocally angry than the boys had been. Rachel was in tears, Santana was swearing in Spanish with such venom that the others would later swear they could see actual flames in her eyes, and Brittany was licking syrup off of her hands.

After everyone was cleaned up, they piled into the choir room, their confidence shattered.

"Don't even try, Mr. Schue," Artie warned. "Nothing you can say can recover us from this."

"I wish I had something I could say, but I have nothing. I never expected this kind of display against us. I'll be working with Principal Figgins to find out who is responsible and make sure they are punished severely," Mr. Schue declared.

"This is inexcusable. I mean, you wouldn't douse the cast of  _Wicked_  if you didn't like the show, so why us?" Rachel cried. "This year sucks!"

After a little more venting, Mr. Schue had to dismiss them back to class. Going to class wearing gym clothes was like wearing a flashing neon sign that read "Loser!" on it. The rest of the day they were subjected to random giggling, pointing, snickering, and other jokes at their expense.

-ooo-

The next rehearsal day, majority of the glee club didn't show up. In fact, the only ones to show up were Rachel, Finn, Mike, Tina, and Rory. Everyone else was nowhere to be seen.

"Okay, what's going on guys?" Mr. Schue asked. "Where is everyone?"

The tiny crowd was silent, looking anywhere but at their teacher. Mr. Schue was beginning to get agitated. "So is this it? Is this what our glee club has come down to? Five?"

"Rory, I know you know where Sam is," Mr. Schue said pointedly to the boy, who refused to look up. "So... nobody wants to share? You're all gonna let your friends leave and not even try to get them back? You want to forfeit Regionals? Give up?"

Again, silence.

"Guys, most of us have been together for three years. If you can't talk to me, if you can't trust me, then what kind of family are we?"

Finally, Rachel broke the silence of the glee members. "Mr. Schue, I think everyone... they didn't come because..."

"Because our spirit is broken, Mr. Schue," Finn finished for her. "This took humiliation to a whole new level."

"Yeah! We've been taking slushies to the face one by one for three years, we've been laughed at, made fun of, everything," Tina added.

"But this was too far. Way too far," Mike said. "This took planning. They rigged all those buckets ahead of time. They spent who knows how much on all that slushie."

"And they waited until just the right moment, when all of us were in the right place, and they destroyed us," Finn added.

Everyone looked depressed, and Mr. Schuester looked heartbroken. He had been backstage when the slushiefall happened, had only seen it from the side of the curtain. It hadn't been him who had been doused in sticky syrup in front of the entire school.

"You're right. They did plan it out; they put a lot of effort into that trick. But..." Mr. Schue started. "We can't let that destroy us. If we do, then they win."

"They won a long time ago, Mr. Schue," Mike replied sullenly.

"No, they didn't," Rory spoke up. "I 'aven't been here before this year, but there wouldn't 'ave been a glee club to join if they broke ye'r spirit in the past two years. Ye' all kept going, no matter what they threw at ye'."

The others stared at him, Rachel smiling just a little bit at his courage.

"One of the reasons I love glee club so much is not just that it's fun, but because of the spirit. The friendships. The hard work. E'erthing."

He turned to address Rachel personally, the only one who seemed to show a reaction. "Rachel, you 'ave such passion, such drive. Even if ye' can be a little o'erbearing, ye' always had the urge to keep going. Don't tell me, that ye' of all people, are goin' to give up and die."

Tina had started to cry, Rachel not far behind. She smiled through her tears, however. "You're right," she whispered.

"What was that?" Rory asked, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't hear ye'."

"I said you're right! He's right, guys! We've been through so much, hell and back, and we still kept going. Why are we going to stop now?" she cried, standing up and pleading with her hands.

"I agree," Finn said, standing next to her. "We can't let them win."

Mr. Schuester grinned, a tear of joy rolling down his face.

"It's up to us to convince the rest of them to keep fighting with us," Rachel said. Mike and Tina cheered, joining the standing students.

"Nobody is going to keep us down!" Tina screamed with excitement.

"Looks like you five have a mission to accomplish," Mr. Schue said, never more proud.

-ooo-

The next day in first period, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury went around to snatch each glee club member from class and gathered them in the choir room.

"Alright Mr. Schue, what's this all about?" Puck asked, annoyed. "I have a nap to get back to in history."

"I'm going to let your friends do the talking this time," he replied as Mike, Tina, Rory, Finn, and Rachel filed into the room, standing before them.

"What is this, some kind of intervention?" Quinn asked, also annoyed.

Rachel decided to start things off and break the awkward still in the room. "The five of us were the only ones who showed up to glee club yesterday. And along with Mr. Schue, that meant six broken hearts were here."

Quinn rolled her eyes, Puck sighed, and Artie glared.

"It broke our hearts to see that our friends were chased away from us," she said.

"We weren't just chased away; we were publicly humiliated worse than we ever have been!" Artie said with venom.

"Yeah, excuse us if we don't want to put up with it anymore," Kurt added.

"Why did we all join glee club in the first place?" Tina asked.

_I wanted to sing. It looked like fun. I like to perform. My friends were joining. It was something to do after school. It got me girls. It was lively._

"Did any of that change?" Mike asked next. Everyone began to murmur replies, most of which answered in the negative.

"Why did we all stick with glee club?" Finn posed to them.

_It was fun. We're like family. I need the music. It makes me happy. It's the best part of my day. It got me girls. It made me feel alive. It made me feel like I was doing something special._

"Has any of that changed?" Rachel inquired pleadingly. Again murmured answers in the negative. "It's still fun, we're still family. It still makes us happy when we're performing, dancing and singing. We feel alive and special. Like we're doing something special. None of that has changed from the first day we started!" she added with such passion that her eyes began to tear up a little.

"I still like glee club," Brittany piped up. "I just don't like all that syrup in my hair. Lord Tubbington keeps trying to eat my hair and hairspray gives him diarrhea."

"When I joined this club, ye' all had such passion and love in this room. Love for the music, and for each other. I admired ye' all because even though people made fun of ye', nobody quit. We all sang and had fun no matter what. Are we really goin' to let a bunch of arseholes ruin our fun? Our love for the music?" Rory asked rhetorically.

Santana stood up. "You know, the little freak is right, as much as I hate to say it. I joined glee club because I love to sing and dance and it's one of the best things about being in this hellhole of a high school. Nobody pushes Santana Lopez around."

There were several cheers, the loudest from Brittany. "I love glee club, too. And I love you guys. I don't want one without the other. I want both. I guess that means I'm bimusical."

"Why does that make me think of her sexuality?" Kurt whispered to Blaine, both of them giving a slight chuckle.

"Kurt, you want to go to NYADA? They don't take quitters. And if I recall, you pulled through tougher things than a slushie on the head," Rachel asked him directly.

Kurt looked up at her. "No, no I don't want to quit. I want NYADA and I want to perform. I want to sing and dance and shove it in all their faces that we won't quit! That Kurt Hummel won't quit!"

Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury were smiling at the front of the room, watching their students rally together.

"Mercedes, do you think Aretha or Beyoncé would let a crowd of jerks push them down? You say you want to be like them, prove it!" Finn challenged her.

She smiled and stood up. "You're damn right I want to be like them! If I quit, then who's gonna give Rachel a run for her money on those solos?"

One by one, the five students fired question after question to each of their friends, and one by one they each found their fire inside of them. Their spirits mending.

"Blaine, you didn't leave the Warblers to come on a losing team did you? I didn't think so. Let's make it a winning team again, and worth coming here," Mike asked him.

"Sugar, you said when you joined the Troubletones that you wanted to be on a winning team for once. Here it is, help us stay that way," Rachel addressed her.

Puck still claimed that he was only in it for the girls, so if he quit, he'd be out that much more booty. Nobody paid attention to the fact that there wasn't any 'booty' in the club that was interested.

Quinn admitted that she didn't want to let down the same people who saw her through the toughest times in her life, no matter how many times she tried to give up.

Artie was the hardest nut to crack, Tina herself taking him on. "You didn't let your accident break you down forever. So why are you going to let this?"

Finally, Rory looked right at Sam. "I've admired ye' since the day I met ye'. E'erthing I heard about Sam Evans was that he was confident, a strong singer, and I won't repeat what Santana said was so good about ye', but nobody e'er said ye' were a quitter. Don't give them a reason to say ye' are."

Sam smiled at him and walked up to him, hugging him. "Thank you," he said softly.

Mr. Schuester beamed at his students. "It looks like the great slushie shower was a failure after all."

"One point for New Directions, no points for whoever did the crime," Miss Pillsbury added. "Which, by the way, is still under investigation."

"So are we a glee club again?" Mr. Schue asked the group as a whole.

The sound that erupted from the students was one of pure excitement, energy, happiness. Every single one of them had a mended spirit, ready to take on the world if they had to. The school had tried to break them, and almost succeeded, but with the help of five students, they pulled back together, stronger than before.

Out in the hall, as they were leaving the room to return to classes, Sam stopped Rory a moment. He held both of his hands, and looked him in the eyes.

"Thank you. Like always, you helped me find my way when I was lost," he said, smiling softly.

"Ye'r just the irrational one, Sammy. I'm the smart one, right?"

"Don't push it. I can still cuss you out in Na'vi and you'd have no clue what I said."

"Hello, Irish native here! I can do the same in my language. Good try, Sammy," Rory teased. "No, I'm not the smart one. I'm the… well I'm not sure what I am, but ye'r definitely the nerdy one. I like that about ye'."

Sam grinned and winked at him. "That's me. Nerd to the end. Better get to class. Love you."

"Love ye' too. See ye' this evenin'."

Sam walked about ten steps before he turned around. "Hey Ror? You  _are_  the smart one."

Rory was about to protest but Sam smiled at him and turned back around, walking away.

-ooo-

Finally, Valentine's Day had arrived. It was only a few days before Rory's birthday, and Sam had big plans. He had saved up every penny he made from his after school job, and after giving his parents his contribution, he still had enough left to buy him something nice, and take him to dinner.

First thing in the morning, Sam had a card waiting for him next to his messenger bag. It was simple, but definitely Sam's style. It had of all things, two Avatar characters in cartoon form, declaring their affections on the front. Inside, Sam had written:

_Rory,_

_I can't say everything I want to say in this card. I doubt I could ever say everything I feel. Since you came into my life, everything has changed, and it has been all for the better. I feel blessed and honored that I get to spend so much time with you, and that you enjoy that time together. You mean everything to me, and I thank you for the happiness you have given me._

_Love always,_

_Sammy_

It brought tears to the younger boy's eyes. Such honesty and genuine emotion had been put in those words. He could tell Sam had even written very slowly to make sure his writing was as legible as possible, which normally was very sloppy. Having never had someone on Valentine's Day, it was the most wonderful thing he could have received from his boyfriend.

Rory had hidden his own card in Sam's backpack, intending for him not to see it until he was digging around for his notebook. He thanked Sam for his heartfelt card on the way to school, kissed him and bade him a good day, and went on to class.

At the beginning of first period, Sam dug out his notebook and textbook, something falling on the floor. Finn was sitting next to him and picked it up, and handed it to him.

"Looks like you might have an admirer," Finn teased as he handed over the card. Sam smiled, recognizing Rory's very neat cursive writing. He opened it up to find a card with a leprechaun on it, except the mythical creature was wearing red instead of green, and holding a pot of heart shaped gold.

Sam opened the card and inside was a photograph of the two of them, and a message:

_To the most wonderful nerd in the world,_

_What can I say here that I wouldn't say to your face? Probably nothing, since I already tell you how wonderful you are, but I'll repeat it all anyway, just in case you need help remembering. You have made my experience here in the States the most amazing time in my life. When I came here, I started to think it was a mistake, but once you came along, I realized it was only a blessing. You took care of me when I was hurt, and you still take care of me every day in ways you may not realize. I'm proud to have you with me and couldn't have anyone better in my life. I love you so much, you just don't know, but I will do my best to make sure you know you are loved every chance I get._

_I love you so very much,_

_Rory Leprechaun_

He grinned widely at the words, closing his eyes for a moment to just bask in the mental glow of the affection written in the card.

"Hey uh, can I see?" Finn asked. "Just kind of curious what a guy writes to another guy."

Sam chuckled and handed it over for Finn to read. He expected him to make some sort of smart alec comment, or be 'weirded out', but Finn actually smiled and handed it back without fanfare. "That was really awesome, Sam. I can't say I ever imagined you with a dude, it still seems a bit 'what the fuck', but you picked a cool dude."

"Thanks. I'm glad this whole revelation of who I am hasn't damaged our friendship. Afterall, you were my first friend when I came here last year."

The two boys didn't have time to keep reminiscing as the teacher came in and called the class to order. Everyone may have been paying attention, but Sam was staring off into space, thinking only about Rory. He couldn't wait to get home and then go to dinner later. He had taken the night off, having traded days off with someone else, and his parents were doing their own thing for the night, so the pair would have all the time to themselves. Now to just make it through the rest of the day.

-ooo-

Normally there would be a glee club meeting on Tuesdays, but Mr. Schue had given everyone the day off to celebrate with their special someones, and so that he, too, could spend extra time with Emma.

As soon as school let out, the boys met at Rory's locker as always. This time, however, Rory requested that they stop by Lima Bean on the way home, where he treated Sam to his favorite caffeine inflated drink and some heart-shaped cookies, complete with bright red frosting.

"This is a holiday, ye'r diet is on vacation until tomorrow," Rory claimed, pushing a chunk of chocolate chip cookie into Sam's mouth. Red frosting stuck to his thick lips, which Rory promptly wiped off with his finger and licked off.

"I don't see why Santana made fun of ye'r trouty mouth. Ye'r lips are so kissable, plump and I can't help but want to touch them," Rory said, grinning. He leaned forward and kissed Sam on the lips - a quick smooch, not the kind that sent electricity to the loins.

"Because she's a bitch, and that's what she does. Sadly for her, she won't be within three feet of these lips now that they're yours," Sam declared. "Open up," he instructed, pushing some white chocolate macadamia nut cookie into Rory's mouth.

Rory licked the frosting off of his lips seductively, Sam grinning like a kid. "Don't tease me," he said.

"Me, a tease? Not ever!" Rory protested seductively. "I would never tease ye'."

"Oh no? Then what was that the other day when you came out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around your waist, and then you just let it drop to the floor and walked around naked for twenty minutes, knowing full well I had to be getting to work?"

Rory giggled. "Oh, that. That wasn't teasing, that was... previews, like at the movies."

"Uh huh. I'll get you back sometime. Just wait. I'll get you all worked up and then start talking about Smurfs or something," Sam challenged. They both burst into giggles like a couple of teenaged girls. "Let's get home; I have a surprise for you."

"Now I'm nervous. It might blow up on me! Revenge for teasin' ye'. I better watch me back," Rory said, grinning. They finished their snack and then went on their way back home.

-ooo-

"I hope ye' didn't spend too much on me, ye' already spent so much at Christmas," Rory mentioned as Sam told him to sit on the bed.

"I'll spend however much I want to, thank you very much," Sam replied smartly. "Well, actually, it isn't a whole lot since your birthday is later this week too, but anyway."

Sam opened his underwear drawer and dug around until he found what he was looking for. It was a medium sized box, wrapped in red paper with a white ribbon. He started to carefully unwrap it before Sam told him to just tear it open like a kid.

Inside the box was a long silver chain attached to a wallet that had the Irish seal embossed into the leather.

"I thought you could use a new wallet. The one you have is a little worn out, and I can't picture you wearing jeans without the chain," Sam explained.

Rory jumped up off the bed and threw his arms around his boyfriend. "Thank ye' so much Sammy! I love it! Is this real cow?"

"Yes, it's real cow. If you throw it on the grill you can have a steak," Sam laughed. "It's not real silver though. That was way out of my price range, unfortunately."

"I don't care about that, silly! I love it. Ye' picked it out, that means more than anything else," Rory replied. He unclipped his current chain and dumped his wallet out on the bed. There wasn't much in it - the IDs that he needed in the States, a credit card, student ID, a punch card for the Lima Bean, and a little bit of cash.

He took aim for the trash can and in went the old one. He stuffed everything into his new wallet and clipped it to his jeans and put the wallet in his pocket.

"Hold on, you didn't even check in the picture slip," Sam said. Rory opened it up again and saw inside was a picture of him and Sam, grinning at each other like fools. "Now flip open the side pocket." In the side pocket was a small business card for BreadstiX, and on the back it read:

_Dinner tonight. Reservations at 6. Love, Sammy_

"Aww! Dinner, too? Ye' do too much for me," Rory said. He kissed Sam on the cheek and then went to rummage through his messenger bag. He pulled out a small box that looked like a Rubix cube.

"What's this?" Sam asked, taking it from him. He started to twist it a little bit.

"Solve the puzzle and ye' get what's inside o' course. Only the outside pieces turn, so good luck," Rory instructed. He sat back in the chair, watching intently as Sam struggled with the cube.

"This isn't going to summon Pinhead when I solve it, is it?" Sam asked. Rory looked confused. "You know, Pinhead. Hellraiser. No? Okay, never mind."

After what seemed like forever, the box locked into place and made a click sound. One of the little squares popped forward like a button. He pressed it and the cube snapped open. Inside the very small container was something wrapped in cloth. Sam turned the cube upside down and it fell into his palm.

"Well, It didn't explode... and it didn't bring forth hell..." he joked, taking the cloth off. Inside of it was a ring just like Rory's.

"Is this? One of those clat tag rings?" Sam asked, mispronouncing the word horribly.

"Claddagh. Yes. Hold out ye'r hand."

Sam held out his hand, fingers spread apart. Rory took the ring from his other palm and carefully slid it on Sam's finger, the heart pointing in the direction that meant he was taken.

"Now people know just by looking at ye'r hand that ye'r taken," the younger boy explained. "It's an Irish tradition, and in my book, ye'r an honorary Irishman."

"It's wonderful! I can't wait to show it off! Thank you, baby," Sam said, hugging him and kissing him. "Best boyfriend ever."

"I'm ye'r only boyfriend ever," Rory teased. Sam rolled his eyes.

"You know what I meant! We need to get ready to go soon. I have reservations but you know how that goes," Sam said. While Rory was changing, he used his phone to snap a picture of his hand, sending the picture to Kurt and Blaine to show off his new accessory.

 _I am so jealous!_  Kurt texted back.

 _You better give him a little somethin' somthin' tonight!_  Blaine replied jokingly.

 _Not an issue!_  Sam replied to him.

 _Going out?_  Blaine asked.

_Yeah. BreadstiX. TTYL_

Rory came back into the room dressed in a light green button down shirt with a tan colored vest and and slacks. He had on a little tan bowtie to go with it and a tan hat.

"You. Look. Adorable!" Sam exclaimed. "Looks like Blaine rubbed off on you with the bowties."

"Ye' don't like them?"

"I love them. Give me a minute," Sam replied, searching his closet for an outfit. He came out wearing a maroon button up shirt and black slacks. "Got an extra bowtie?"

Rory opened his drawer to show the three he had. Sam picked out one and put it on. "There, now we can both look nice."

Rory shook his head and then kissed him. "You're so handsome."

Sam blushed a little bit, always enjoying the little compliments Rory gave him all the time. They decided to go ahead and leave so their table would be ready on time.

-ooo-

Their date was going well. It reminded them both of their first date together, how awkward they both were because neither one knew the etiquette when dating another guy. It had been a long time since either of them had even thought about it.

As they were eating dinner, their meal was interrupted by a very unwelcome guest.

"Good evening Rory, and Sam was it?" the disgusting voice came. Sebastian.

"Hello, Sebastian. How are ye' tonight?" Rory asked politely. He still had a sense of discomfort after the bathroom incident.

"Oh I'm fine now."

"Are you here with anyone?" Rory asked.

Sebastian grinned. "Yes and no. I'm hanging out with a friend, but we're just friends with benefits, so I'm not 'with' anyone special."

"So basically you're here with a fuckbuddy. Nice," Sam remarked.

"If you want to use that vulgar term. There are others I would much rather be with tonight," Sebastian said, looking at Rory. Sam knew that had Blaine been there as well, his eyes would have darted to him as well.

"I won't hold you boys up any longer, I'm sure you have plenty to do tonight. Goodnight, and I hope to see you again soon, Rory."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, see ya." He rolled his eyes. "I hate that guy. It's so rude to flirt with someone else's boyfriend like that."

"I've gotten to see that, too. He seems a little too flirtatious for it to be innocent," Rory agreed. "Oh well, don't let him spoil our date. All he has is a tramp. We have each other."

"Exactly. Now don't stuff yourself. I wanna get some dessert. And then maybe later some extra dessert," Sam said with a sly grin.

Rory grinned back. "Agreed."

An hour later, they had finished their meals, a dessert of chocolate brownie covered with vanilla ice cream, and then gone home to an empty house. His parents still weren't expected home for another couple of hours, and his siblings were at the babysitter's. They decided to take advantage of their privacy and spent the next hour making love, Rory on the bottom, Sam penetrating him lovingly until they were both covered in sweat, seed, and out of energy.


	16. Episode 16: Competitions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Very excited about this chapter because this is the first hardcore beta I have had for this story and she is amazingly amazing! Yes that was meant to be redundant._
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality (Please read her Sory fics, they are really good!)

**Recap:**  Sebastian is putting the moves on not only Blaine, but Rory too, and that leaves a very upset Kurt and Sam. Not a good combo! The glee club was humiliated in front of the whole school when they were doused in slushies and it crushed their spirits, but a handful of glee club members patched them up and now they're ready to compete in regionals and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 16: Competitions**

Rory's birthday was on Friday, so the party Mrs. Evans had planned for him took place Saturday at four. She had Sam invite all of the glee club members, who were really his only friends. He hadn't really taken to the other sophomores, only knowing most of them on an acquaintance level.

She had assigned Sam the task of getting him out of the house for the better part of the day. He took advantage of the fact that Rory had gotten some money from his family by taking him to the mall so he could do some shopping. His relatives had sent him a very touching card filled with long messages from his mother and father, shorter messages from other family, and a drawing from Seamus which had brought happy tears to the homesick boy's eyes.

"Any idea what you want to get?" Sam asked.

"No. Can we look around for a while? I want to visit the electronics store and a couple of clothing stores if that's okay," Rory replied. He had counted his money before they left - two hundred dollars altogether.

"Take all the time you want, but mom wants us home by four. Don't ask why, I have no idea." Sam was a poor liar, and had a feeling that Rory could see right through him.

"Mhmm," Rory chuckled. He headed to the electronics store first to check out the games and CDs. By the time three thirty came, he had bought Mario Kart with two steering wheels, a couple of shirts and jeans, a hoodie, two more bowties, and an imported  _Celtic Thunder_  CD that he insisted Sam have. "It's my favorite Irish group. I'll convert ye' before ye' know it."

As they pulled up into the driveway, they noticed several extra cars parked off to the side and on the curb. They recognized several of them as belonging to their friends.

"Hmm, look at all the visitors we have. I wonder what they're here for," Sam said playfully. He knew full well what was up, and at that point, Rory realized he was the only one not in the loop.

They went to the front door, but it was locked and Sam had somehow conveniently forgotten his house key, despite the fact it was hanging right on the keychain clipped to his belt loop. Yeah, Sam was definitely a poor liar.

"I guess we'll use the back door. C'mon," Sam said, shrugging his shoulders, the tone of his voice and his expression a little 'too innocent'. Rory followed him and they opened the door, only to find exactly what Mrs. Evans had up her sleeve.

When they opened the door to the pool room, they found their friends and Sam's family gathered on one side of the pool, everyone shouting "Surprise!" as soon as they stepped inside.

"Oh my god, ye' didn't!" Rory exclaimed with a smile.

"Oh yes we did," Mrs. Evans began. "We wanted to make sure you got to experience a good ol' American birthday celebration!"

"Ye' knew about this, didn't ye?" he asked Sam, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Of course I did. Who else would be able to drag you out of the house for a few hours, no questions asked?"

The entire glee club was there except for Quinn, Puck, and Santana. Puck liked Rory, but he had to work, while everyone knew that neither Quinn nor Santana would be caught dead near him if they could avoid it. And it was just as well, nobody wanted any drama.

Mr. Evans announced that hamburgers and hot dogs were on the grill shortly (nevermind that it was kind of cold outside) and the rest of the food was being put out on the table by Mrs. Evans. All the classic American party foods were there – chips, potato salad, baked beans, macaroni and cheese, and various kinds of soda.

"Oh wow, this is so much!" Rory said, looking around at all of the food and friends. "Ye' didn't have to go to all this trouble," he told Mrs. Evans.

"Oh hush and have fun. You can go back to Ireland and tell them all about the crazy American parties you had while you were here," she said with a smile.

Within minutes, everyone was in the pool, getting ready for a game of volleyball. Well, everyone except Artie, who was on a float, keeping score and making commentary as if he were on a TV show.

Volleyball was intense. They were all rather competitive people, so it was no surprise when Artie quickly found himself being splashed to death when he made a bad call. After a game, the food was ready and they all enjoyed their indoor cookout in the comfort of the heated room.

"Before you go getting back in the pool, we have to have some dessert," Mrs. Evans announced. She and the two kids disappeared into the house and returned a moment later carrying a cake decorated with lit candles, Stacy and Stevie bouncing around excitedly.

Rachel led the group in a very over the top version of the Happy Birthday song, and then Rory blew out his candles, all sixteen in one puff. Cake was had by all, leaving their mouths a nice shade of green from the frosting. Stacy insisted on feeding Rory a chunk of cake, most of which ended up on his nose and lips. Sam finished him off with a whole slice smashed right in his face. Rory wiped off his face and chased Sam around the room before he caught up to him and threw him in the pool.

Another two games of volleyball and some swimming races completed the pool activities. Artie floated around with a drink (in a plastic red cup with a straw) in one hand as if he were sipping a mimosa. A rogue volleyball took care of that and the plastic cup ended up split in half. That led to a singing of  _Red Solo Cup_. Afterward, everyone gathered around to watch him open his gifts.

"First a party, now gifts? This really is too much!" Rory said, still smiling.

"Nonsense, now get to opening," Mr. Evans instructed.

He started to open the packages one by one, suddenly finding that his DVD and CD collection was expanding quickly. Kurt and Blaine of course got him a nice shirt, complete with bow tie. Blaine was really pushing to get him addicted to bow ties.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans gave him another video game – _Dance Dance Revolution_ , complete with floor mat. Stacy and Stevie gave him another DVD, having joined their allowances for two weeks.

"Thank ye', so much, all of ye'," Rory said. "Ye'r the best friends a boy could ask for."

"Don't start with the sappy stuff, Ror. Besides, you got one more to open," Sam said, handing him another box.

"Sam… what is this?" he asked. "Ye' know ye' shouldn't 'ave spent anything else on me after the holidays."

"Since when have I ever listened? Now be quiet and tear off the paper!"

"Please don't make him whine," Stevie giggled. "He gets whiny when he doesn't get his way." Sam shot him a look that silenced him immediately, but not without a snicker.

Stacy bounded up next to him, offering to help if he couldn't manage on his own. He smiled at her and let her help him with the ribbon. Inside was a brand new iPod Touch. His eyes went wide when he saw what it was.

"Sammy! This is way too expensive!"

"Nah. I saved up my pizza delivery money and had enough in no time. Well that and mom and dad didn't make me pay them anything yet," Sam said, laughing nervously.

"There's no way I can ever repay ye' for this. Not now, anyway. I can't work here," Rory argued.

Sam nudged him. "Just thank me and smile. Lots and lots of smiles. And maybe a hug would be nice."

Rory did as he was told and thanked him, then smiled, his eyes sparkling with excitement and satisfaction. He was still in disbelief that Sam had gotten him something so expensive for his birthday when he had just spent a decent sum on him for Valentine's Day.

That night before bed, Rory hugged Mr. and Mrs. Evans, thanking them profusely for everything. He hugged Stacy and Stevie and then retreated to his bedroom.

"Yeah, I think we'll watch one of his new DVDs and then go to bed," Sam said, yawning.

"Mhmm. 'Watch a movie.' Yeah right. Keep it down in there, got it?" His dad snickered. Even his mom had to giggle at his dad's sarcasm, oblivious to her husband's insinuation that something other than movie watching would be going on.

Sam just smiled innocently and bid them goodnight before joining Rory. He locked the door behind him, put on one of the DVDs, and sat on the bed. They only made it about fifteen minutes into the film before they gave in to passion.

They began to kiss, first just mild pecks, and then more and more heated. Rory sucked on Sam's lips massaging the tender flesh with his tongue. They began to devour each other, stopping just long enough to pull off their shirts. As they continued to kiss, they slid each other's pants and underwear off, leaving them both completely naked on the bed.

They stopped their almost desperate making out and just lay there for a few minutes, Sam slowly caressing Rory's body, tracing lines up and down the pale skin of the young teen's chest, stomach, and legs with his fingertips. It was sending tiny shivers of pleasure up and down his nude body, arousing him more and more.

"Have I told you lately just how beautiful you are? Such soft, smooth skin. Almost flawless," Sam said, kissing his neck.

"Ye' flatter me," Rory said coyly. "I'll never look as good as ye' do. Ye'r muscles and form and strength."

"Bullshit. You're beautiful just the way you are. If you want muscles and strength and shit, you can work out at the gym, but I think you're perfect already. I don't need a gym rat to be turned on."

Rory blushed in the darkness. "Ye'r too good to me. A simple little Irish boy, given so much."

"I'm just a simple country boy, so it's not like we're all that different. Simple guys with simple needs."

Rory closed his eyes and basked in the warmth of Sam's body spooning him. He could feel his boyfriend's growing erection as Sam ran his fingers over him again, this time tracing down to his groin and feeling Rory's own hardness. Sam gripped it and very slowly stroked him up and down. His speed was agonizingly slow, making Rory shudder just a little bit.

"Somebody seems to like that," Sam teased.

"Mhmm," Rory moaned under his breath. Sam kept stroking him, feeling a small drop of precum forming on the tip. He pulled his hand away and licked it clean, then returned to his task.

"You want more, don't you?" Sam asked.

"Y-yeah, I d-do," Rory stuttered.

Sam grinned. "What do you want?"

"I want..." Rory started but quickly sucked in his breath when Sam stroked just a little harder.

"You want what? You gotta tell me or else I don't know," Sam teased again, whispering into his ear, his hot breath tickling Rory's cheek.

Rory whispered something incomprehensible with his thick accent, so Sam demanded he say it again.

"I want ye' to..."

"You want me to what? Out with it or else I'm going to sleep and you have to handle yourself," Sam told him, an evil grin on his face. "This is your last chance!"

Rory smiled. He still hadn't gotten used to the idea of speaking in such vulgar terms but Sam was determined to get him to talk a little dirty to him.

"I want ye' to suck me dick, and I want to suck ye'rs and then I want ye' inside o' me," Rory blurted out, feeling a little foolish but at the same time turned on.

"That's better, my little Irishman. Well, maybe not so little," Sam chuckled. "Lay on your back," he instructed. Rory stretched out on the bed, and Sam parted his legs a bit while he laid on his stomach, his face hovering over Rory's dick.

Sam teased him further by just licking the tip, swirling his tongue around the head. He dropped his lips down just a little bit and suckled on the foreskin, massaging with his tongue, eliciting quiet moans from the teen.

Inch by inch, Sam worked his way down the throbbing shaft, licking and sucking until finally the entire thing was in his mouth, tickling the back of his throat. His thick lips wrapped around it as he slowly bucked his head up and down, sucking and stroking with nothing but his mouth.

"Oh me god, Sam, that feels amazing," Rory breathed. Sam then adjusted his neck so that he could go completely down, deep throating him and burying his nose in the thin thatch of pubic hair. He smelled so fresh and clean but there was a Pheromonal masculine scent as well that sent Sam's head swimming with arousal.

While he continued to suck him deep, he used one of his hands to gently tug at Rory's balls, rolling them around between his fingers. He pulled his mouth off of Rory's dick long enough to suck on his balls, popping them both in his mouth and massaging with his tongue. He slowly stroked him as he did so.

Sam propped himself up on his elbows, his mouth no longer busy. "Do you wanna get me good and wet for you?"

Rory grinned. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "I want to suck ye', very badly," he admitted.

"Then get on your knees," Sam said, scooting to the edge of the bed so he was sitting with his knees parted. Rory didn't have to be told twice. He hopped up and got on his knees right in front of Sam's big dick and latched his mouth on right away.

"You don't waste any time," Sam chuckled, but then he began to moan as Rory worked his oral magic on him. What Sam didn't expect, however, was that when Rory was getting him closer and closer to the edge, he would suddenly slow down and then stop.

"Oh god that's not fair!" Sam whined. Rory looked up and grinned at him, his smile innocent yet mischievous at the same time. He waited for a moment and then got back on it, waited until he could again feel the throbbing of an impending orgasm, and then stopped. Sam was squirming as Rory did it three more times, getting him painfully close and then stopping.

"I want ye' to be unbearably aching fe'r me," Rory declared seductively.

Sam sighed. "Oh I am. I'm so ready it hurts!"

"Then we wait a few minutes. I don't want ye' to go off too soon. I want to feel ye' last for a nice long time," Rory said, the seductive smile still on his face.

He got up and pushed Sam onto his back so they were laying side by side, kissing passionately while their hands roamed all over. Sam quickly found Rory's ass and began squeezing the tight globes, feeling the muscles he was soon going to invade.

"Get on your hands and knees. I want to try something a little different," Sam ordered. Rory's curiosity was suddenly piqued. He got up on all fours, expecting Sam to want to take him from behind. Instead he felt strong hands parting his cheeks.

"What are ye' gonna do?" Rory asked hesitantly.

Sam didn't answer. Instead he pressed his face forward and began to massage the tight muscle with his tongue. Rory moaned at the unexpected sensations as Sam continued to lick. Sam grabbed him by the thighs to hold him still so he couldn't squirm away.

"Oh me god, that's amazing!" Rory groaned. Sam let go of one of his thighs and started to stroke him while he licked the tight hole.

After a couple more minutes, Sam brought his face up and replaced his tongue with a spit slicked finger. He teased the tight hole until Rory relaxed enough for him to slide his finger in. He wasn't quite as gentle as the first time, pushing in all the way. Waiting only a moment, the started to push and pull his finger in and out, in and out, fucking him with it. Rory started to moan again, his body trembling at the sensations.

"You like that, don't you?" Sam asked rhetorically. When Rory only responded with a murmur, he worked a second finger inside of him. His free hand continued to stroke, keeping him focused completely on the pleasure.

Three fingers in and still begging for more. Sam was ready, and so was Rory. Sam reached for the night stand and pulled a bottle of lubricating jelly out of the drawer and slathered his cock in it. He then slicked up Rory's hole with it and then set the tube aside.

"You ready baby?" Sam asked.

"Uh huh," Rory said softly. "I want ye' so bad Sam!"

"Good, because you're about to get me, all of me," Sam challenged. He wasn't joking either. He pressed the head up against his hole and pushed. He went slowly, but didn't stop until his dick was inside up to the hilt. Rory cried out as he felt the large cock hit his prostate.

"Oh god!" Rory exclaimed.

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now I want to hear you beg me for it," Sam said, grinning. He had never been so demanding with girls - it almost felt wrong to him to be giving demands and orders in bed, but with Rory it turned him on, and it turned his boyfriend on, both of them enjoying the raunchy banter.

"I'm not movin' until you're begging," Sam teased.

"Oh me god, please Sam! Make us feel so good," Rory said. Sam pulled back and then pushed back in, claiming another moan as he hit that special spot once again.

Rory was starting to breathe harder, demanding Sam to go faster, and then harder. "Fuck me really good, Sam!"

"Hmm, swearing now. You must want it bad," Sam said jokingly. It wasn't often the younger teen swore, so he knew he was doing something right.

"Oh me god be damned ye'r so big! Can we change positions up?" Rory asked, his body getting sore from being on his hands and knees so long.

Sam didn't say anything, but instead pulled out long enough to shove the boy on his back and re-mount him. He began to pound him mercilessly from this new position, Rory not even having time to breathe.

"Play with yourself," Sam instructed as he thrust in and out, fast and hard. Rory did so, reaching down to stroke himself, trying to match Sam's rhythm.

"Don't you dare cum yet," Sam warned playfully. "Tell me when you get close."

Not even two minutes passed before Rory was giving him a heads up. Sam smacked his hand away and told him not to touch himself anymore.

"I dunno how much longer I can take ye'," Rory admitted, his body getting tired and his hole feeling worked to the max.

"You can handle it, baby. You can handle it as long as I want you to. I promise," Sam said slyly. "You wanted it, you begged for it. I'm gonna take you right to the end."

"I... I can't..." Rory argued between moans.

"Yeah you can. You're getting closer aren't you?"

"Y-yeah... Really close..."

Sam smiled. "You want to cum real bad, don't you? You feel it building up, ready to go."

"Y-yeah!" Rory replied. His body began to tremble, his muscles tightening as Sam slammed into him harder and harder, faster and faster, like a locomotive. Sweat poured off of them both, soaking the sheets.

Without warning, Rory's dick was spasming, a thick load of cum spewing out of it like a geyser, volley after volley, running up his chest, stomach, and crotch. He felt like he came a gallon, as if his balls had emptied a year's worth onto his body.

As he was cumming, Sam was slamming mercilessly, blasting his own orgasm inside of him. He grunted as he let the tightening hole milk the last of the cum out of him. His dick became so sensitive he had to wait a minute before he could even pull out of him. He then leaned down and licked up every drop of cum off of Rory's bare body until nobody would ever think anything had happened. He even licked the few sticky drops left on the head. He then lay next to him and collapsed.

"That was the most intense moment of me life," Rory admitted between deep breaths.

"Me, too," Sam added.

"Even with-" Rory began, but Sam placed his finger over his mouth to silence him.

"With anyone, ever," Sam answered with a smile. "My heart is still racing."

Rory grinned at him. "Yeah, mine too."

Sam leaned over enough to kiss him, his lips still a little sticky.

"Oh me god, I hurt a little," Rory said.

"Oh you're gonna hurt for a nice long while. I didn't show you any mercy in case you didn't notice."

"Oh yeah, I noticed. Trust me, I noticed. Everything down there feels like it's overworked, but at the same time it feels so... so good," Rory told him.

Sam reached down and held his hand. "Were you scared?"

"A little. Just because I didn't think I could take ye' for long, and you pushed me past me limit."

"You know I would never hurt you though, right? I knew you could handle it. I had faith. I know the difference between begging out of genuine pain, and begging out of passion. You were wanting it so, so bad," Sam explained.

Rory closed his eyes. "Ye'r right. I trust ye', completely. With me life."

"I'm going to grab a towel so we can clean up and go to bed. Damn, gonna have to change the sheets real quick, too. We soaked them through," Sam noticed.

When they finished changing the sheets, both of them collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Sam held him in his arms, pulled up the sheets to keep warm (not that they needed extra heat), declared his love, and traced his fingers along Rory's arm until he himself fell asleep. Rory had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, but he didn't have to say the words for Sam to know he loved him.

The next morning when they woke, the first thing Rory noticed was how much his ass hurt. "It was all worth it," he said. It would be a while before he would feel up to getting Sam inside of him, though.

"I think I actually bruised you a little," Sam chuckled as he noted the slightly purplish color and Rory's description of the pain.

"That's okay. It felt beyond amazing. Ye' can do it again sometime, but after I stop hurting."

"I love you so much. You still look amazing even first thing in the morning. Let's get looking decent, I can smell breakfast already," Sam declared.

-ooo-

Monday after swim practice, Rory decided to go with Blaine and Kurt to the Lima Bean for a drink. While they were there, they happened to see none other than their favorite person - Sebastian.

"Oh look, my favorite two boys, how are you?" the Warbler asked, acting as if Kurt wasn't even there.

"We're all fine, thanks," Kurt answered for them. Sebastian gave him a sarcastic grin. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom. I feel a little nauseated." He stood up abruptly and marched off toward the men's room.

"That was rude now, wasn't it?" Sebastian asked, sliding into Kurt's seat. "So what brings you two here, hm?"

Rory shrugged. "Just getting a snack before homework. I 'ave to watch the kids when I get home."

Sebastian arched an eyebrow. "Kids? You have kids?"

"Oh no no no, not me kids," Rory laughed. "Sam's little brother and sister. I watch them after school sometimes to help out."

"That's so cute," Sebastian cooed. "Why doesn't Sammy watch them while you go out and play?"

"Don't call him Sammy. He hates that. And he works after school," Rory replied.

Sebastian smirked. "He has to work? Is he... unfortunate?"

"Unfortunate? What do ye' mean by that?" Rory asked, a little confused.

"Is he poor? I mean, to have to work after school and all, most high school students don't have to resort to that around here," Sebastian explained with a tone of distaste.

Rory frowned at him. "No, Sam and his family aren't poor. He works because he's responsible and set a good example for his little brother and sister," he said defensively.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I was just concerned that you might not be taken care of as well as you deserve," Sebastian replied 'apologetically'.

Sensing the tension, Blaine offered to go get both of them fresh drinks. Rory silently prayed that Sebastian would behave himself. No such luck.

"He must be big," Sebastian said matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?" Rory asked, not understanding the statement.

"You've been squirming in your seat like you're uncomfortable. I was just commenting that Samuel must be rather big to cause you such discomfort. He should be more careful with you."

Rory blushed. "Uhm, that's really nobody's business but ours. We don't tell about our relations."

"Oh, that's fine. I was just making an observation. I'm pretty sure if you could manage to handle a boy like him then you'd have no trouble with a man like myself."

"I think it's time for you to go," came Kurt's voice as he returned from the bathroom.

"Oh, it's you," Sebastian said, disappointed. "I suppose you're right, it is time for me to go. I have an extra Warbler rehearsal tonight."

"Then we'll be saying goodbye. I'm sure we'll end up seeing you around somewhere," Kurt said flatly.

Sebastian turned to Rory and smiled. "It's been a pleasure talking to you as usual. Take care of yourself, and tell Samuel he really should be more gentle with you. He could do some damage if he isn't careful."

"What is he talking about?" Kurt asked quietly as soon as the boy had walked away.

"Uhm, he was asking personal stuff. Sexual stuff. About me and Sam. I told him it was none of his business but he insisted on making a comment," Rory explained, blushing.

"Good for you. Too many gay men are quick to kiss and tell," Kurt commented. "He was right about one thing though. Be sure to be careful, whatever you do. If you ever have any questions or need advice, Blaine can answer it all for you. I'm a little too shy to talk about those things really."

"Thanks, Kurt. I- we appreciate it."

When Blaine returned, they simply told them that Sebastian had to leave for rehearsal unexpectedly.

-ooo-

A week had passed and finally after much preparation, rigorous practices, pushing himself to the maximum, and still managing everything else he had to do, Rory was ready for his first competition in swimming.

Coach Roz had been very supportive from the first day. It was as if she saw something in him that she wanted to cultivate. Perhaps she had been in a similar situation in her youth – trying to make a fresh start after troubling times, overcome adversity, and so on. Whatever the case, she never divulged her reasons for pushing him so hard.

"Alright Flanagan, listen up. This is your first real swim meet. I signed you up for the amateur category, which means you'll be competing against others on the same skill level as yourself. Nod if you follow me," Coach Roz told him.

"What happens if I win? Or lose?" Rory asked nervously. He had been pushing himself so hard he never thought to actually ask what was at stake.

"No idea what you just said but keep this in mind. If you win in your category, you can move up to the next level for the next competition. There's three things they're looking at, Flanagan, form, speed, and time. Just go out there and do your thing, and you should be good to go. Nod if I'm gettin' through to you, son."

"Thanks, coach. Ye' really have been inspirational," he said, nodding with a smile. She just smiled and nodded back, having no clue what he said to her. She figured it must have been good since he was grinning.

The swimming area was packed. They were competing against Lima Heights High, a rather rag tag group of students if there ever was one. They were lined up on a bench on one side of the pool, wearing blue jackets over their swim gear. The McKinley students were lined up on the other side, in red.

The stands were filled with various people, Lima Heights on one side, McKinley on the other. Rory looked out and spotted Sam sitting with Blaine, Kurt, Mike, Tina, Finn, and Rachel. Further down was Mr. and Mrs. Evans and the kids. Down in the second row was Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury. Standing with Coach Roz was Coach Beiste and Coach Sylvester.

His nerves suddenly kicked in when he saw all of his friends out there watching him. He had been used to playing in Irish football, a.k.a. soccer, and was rather good at it. This, however seemed more intense, with fewer team members and races that focused on only three or four at a time. It meant people would be paying a lot more attention to him rather than a team as a whole.

The amateur rank was first up. The announcer read out the names of the four students competing. Two from each school. All four would race at once, swimming three laps. The winner was determined not only by who came in first place, but average lap time and form. The cumulative score determined who would walk away advancing to the next level for the next meet.

The four competitors were lined up in their lanes, perched on the side of the pool as they had practiced many many times before. Rory took one more glance toward Sam and his friends, Sam giving him a thumbs up. He smiled and then faced front, focusing. The whistle blew, and all four students dove into the water.

It was a close race. It was overhand, and while three laps sounds like nothing to some people, when swimming with everything you have in you, it's intense. By the end of the second lap, his shoulder was burning. It felt like his muscles were on fire, screaming for mercy. He put it out of his mind, forcing himself to ignore the pain. He wanted to win.

When he came up out of the water, he didn't even have time to observe what was going on as the announcer declared the winner.

"And by a very close margin, the first place finisher is Rory Flanagan, from McKinley High!" The crowd roared, the glee club members, the teachers, and Sam's family all standing up and cheering.

"And now folks, we will get the tallied scores for the other two categories. Judges please…" the announcer boomed. Holding his breath, Rory watched as the judges held up score cards for average lap time. He won that part by the tiniest fragment of time, but that fragment made all the difference. When they held up the cards for form, he scored a point less, but between his speed and average time scores, he placed first in the amateur level.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in first place for the amateur class, Rory Flanagan!" Again the crowd cheered, Sam shouting the loudest.

"That's my boy! He won! That's my boy right there!" Sam shouted out. Rory was grinning like crazy, the pain in his shoulder a memory as he basked in the glow of his first accomplishment on the swim team.

When he returned to the bench, he was greeted by a warm smile from the coach. "Good job, Flanagan. I'm proud. This means you got a lot of work to do for the next class, though. I'll see to it you make it. Nod if you understand me," she said. Rory nodded, still smiling. "Towel off and watch the rest of the meet. Make noise but don't speak, nobody will know what you're cheerin'."

He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around himself, drying off enough to put on his team windbreaker. It felt good to sit down again, a winner. While it was only the lowest class of all, it was still an accomplishment, something to be proud of. It meant advancement.

When the meet was over, he was overwhelmed with hugs and smiles and congratulations from his friends. Stacy and Stevie were jumping up and down excitedly, chanting something unintelligible but obviously congratulatory.

"I think this calls for some sort of celebration, don't you think?" Rachel asked the group. "Everyone meet at the Lima Bean where we can enjoy a hot coffee and some dessert. I think he's earned it."

One of the few times that everyone agreed with Rachel, the glee club members joined them at the Lima Bean, while Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury had 'teachery things' to do, and the Evans family went on home to give their boys some time with their friends.

One person who had been at the meet, that none of them was aware of, was Sebastian. Sitting far in the back, away from everyone Rory knew so he wouldn't be easily noticed. He quietly slipped out and got in his car, ready to make yet another trip to the coffee shop for a seemingly impromptu appearance.

-ooo-

The small group hadn't been at the Lima Bean more than fifteen minutes before Sebastian appeared. He was wearing his normal cat-like grin, but was lacking his Dalton jacket as if he were trying not to stick out.

"That was some amazing swimming you did today," he said, sliding up next to Rory, sitting on the arm of his couch chair.

"Uh, ye' saw me?" Rory asked skeptically.

"Of course I did. I had to see your first competition. I was impressed," Sebastian answered.

"How did you find out he was competing today?" Sam asked suspiciously.

Sebastian looked right over at Blaine. "Your friend told me. Well, rather it was on his Facebook status that he was attending. It's a public event, I have every right to attend."

Sam exchanged a look of irritation with Kurt, the latter making a mental note to suggest that Blaine remove Sebastian from his friends list.

"Well, thank ye' for coming to see me. I'm glad ye' could see me win," Rory said, trying to sound genuinely thankful. The more he ran into the snakey man, the more he started to see him for what he really was: creepy and overconfident.

"The pleasure is mine. So I see we're celebrating your victory."

"Ah, yes, we are. I suppose ye' could join us," Rory said, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.  _What else was I suppose to say? No, go away? I can't be mean to him, he really hasn't done anything to me. He just acts overly flirtatious. It doesn't seem to bother Blaine. Maybe I should just ignore it._

Rachel decided to try and dissolve the tension by asking Sebastian if the Warbler's had prepared for regionals yet. He quickly rebuffed her, however, stating that it was top secret.

"Come on man, we aren't trying to steal your setlist. She just asked if you guys were ready," Finn came to her defense.

"Sorry. I'm a little paranoid I suppose. I've heard about some of the competitors, Jane Adams Academy, for example, stealing your setlist."

"The New Directions would never do something like that. We don't cheat," Tina stated confidently.

"That's right. We don't need to cheat. We'll take the win on our own," Mike added.

Sebastian smiled at them in an almost condescending manner. "Don't count on that just yet. The Warblers are preparing something spectacular. That's all I'll say about that."

"We're happy to have some competition," Rachel said sweetly, again trying to diffuse the tension.

"By the way, I was sad to hear about the slushie-fall," the snake stated. Everyone turned to look at Blaine again. "Another post on Facebook, of course. You may be competition, but nobody deserves that kind of disrespect. That's not fighting fair."

Kurt finally decided to speak up. "Thank you for your… condolences, but we've moved past it and are in top form once again. A rainstorm of syrup and ice can't keep us down."

"We put up with a lot, but it makes us stronger," Finn added. "The more we endure together, the better of a team we make."

Sebastian was unfazed. The only thing that truly seemed to effect him was anything dealing with Blaine or Rory personally. "I must be going now, I have some choreography to work on. Congratulations again, Rory. And Blaine, I'll see you online."

The moment he was out of earshot, the commentary began.

"Could he be any more condescending?" Rachel asked, mouth agape. "Feeling sorry for us, acting paranoid. It was all so-"

"Phony," Tina said. "He reeks of falsities."

"Good word usage," Mike said. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "He was pretty intense. Did you guys see the way he was talking to Rory?"

Kurt cleared his throat. "And Blaine, too."

"Aww, come on guys, can't you tell he's just desperate for friends? He's new to Dalton this year. I'm sure it can't be easy having to make new friends and fit in. You remember that, right Kurt?" Blaine reminded him.

"Sure, I can empathize with that, but I never tried to move in on anyone's boyfriend, either."

Blaine frowned at him. "Cut him a little slack. You guys are so harsh to him. He's just awkward."

"No no, awkward is stumbling over your words when you speak, or making absurd jokes that aren't funny. That," Rachel pointed in the direction the boy had left, "That, is not awkward, that is deceptive."

Finn clapped Sam on the back. "You haven't said much. You okay dude?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright. That guy just makes me uncomfortable."

"Can't we talk about something else? I don't want anyone in a bad mood today," Rory requested. The others agreed. The get together was supposed to be fun, to celebrate his win, not verbally bash a competing glee club member.

-ooo-

"I'm really proud of you, Ror," Sam said on the way home. "You really kicked some ass out there today."

Rory blushed. "Thank ye' Sammy. I guess ye' could say I get some of my motivation from ye'."

"From me?"

"Yes. Pushing me along to get past this injury. To get involved with something outside of glee club. I don't think I could manage to do it if I didn't have ye'r support."

Sam smiled. "It's what I do, kiddo."

They held hands the rest of the way home.

That night, Mr. Evans cooked burgers on the grill, one of Rory's favorite American classics. Sam was fascinated how something as simple as a cheeseburger excited the boy, but apparently such foods were not as common in Ireland.

They talked about how proud they were of him, and what he needed to do for the next swim class. The kids were so excited; they couldn't wait until it was time to play in the pool again. Their routine was that Rory would do laps while the kids played and then when he was done, he'd join them for a little bit before getting them ready for dinner and homework for himself.

"You're doing a great job with the kids, by the way," Mrs. Evans commented as she was clearing the table. "Not everyone can manage two kids and their own activities, too."

"They make it easy on me, ma'am. They seem to like me, so they listen to me. I scold them for fighting and they stop and apologize. I tell them to change clothes, or sit and watch TV, and they do it without a fuss. They're very well behaved," Rory explained.

Mrs. Evans smiled. "They really do like you a lot, 'Mr. Rory,'" she teased. "Especially Stacy. I can see it whenever she's around you. She has a glow about her, an excitement. Kind of how she acts around Sam. Stevie is less obvious about it, but I can tell he likes you. Especially when you play something sporty with him. He's like his brother, a total jock."

"I know Sam misses them. Working after school, glee club, homework, all of that takes so much time, he can't play with them as much as he wants to," Rory stated. "I guess that's part of growing up. Prioritizing."

"It is, but another part of growing up is knowing when to have fun. There's no point in working hard if you never spend any time enjoying the fruits of your labor."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied politely. Her statement confused him a little. She almost made it sound like he needed to work less or something, but he needed the money.  _They_  needed the money as a family.

"Go on dear, I'll finish these dishes. See if you can coax Sam into a little quality time with the kids. They need to work off the rest of that energy before bedtime," she instructed. Rory thanked her for dinner and ran off to find Sam in their room, looking over his homework.

Sam sighed in frustration. "This stuff is such crap."

"What is?" Rory asked, standing behind him. He peeked over his shoulder and looked at what he was working on. He was writing an essay.

"This homework. She wants me to write a paper on something I can barely read. Some stupid short story," he complained, tossing the text onto the bed.

Rory picked up the book and opened it to the marked page. It was a short story about a scientist and his pet mouse that he used in teaching positive and negative reinforcement. He glossed over the first couple of pages before commenting.

"Wow, this  _is_  crap. A whole twenty pages about a mouse. Well, ye' have to read it and get it done."

"It's not due until Friday," Sam noted.

"Then we can split the pages up. Ten pages today, ten tomorrow, then ye' can write ye'r paper, proofread it, and be ready to turn it in and get a passing grade," Rory informed him.

Sam frowned. "You sound like a teacher."

"No, I just know how ye' are. Ye'll put it off until the last minute and then struggle with it because it takes ye' longer to read it. Ye'r never going to manage ye'r dyslexia if you keep avoiding the issue."

"Rory, you really are the smart one. Smart and cute."

"Don't change the subject. Here," he said, handing the book to Sam. "The first ten pages, and then we need to play with the kids before bedtime."

Sam grinned. Rory had an excellent passion for being a leader – at least when it came to pushing Sam along in school. His grades were lacking, and Rory was right, that he often used his dyslexia as an excuse for not excelling. Rory was also right that he would never learn how to deal with it if he never tried.

"You're too mature for sixteen."

"Uh huh. Get to reading. Ye' have thirty minutes," Rory ordered with a smile. "If ye' need help, I'm right here. I'll just be working on me own 'crap.'"

Sam grinned again and opened the book and started to read it once more. After three pages he wanted to toss it aside but the moment he tried, Rory scolded him and set him back on track.  _No wonder he qualified to come over here. He's so much smarter than me._

-ooo-

Regionals snuck up on them much faster than anyone expected. The competition was the first Saturday in March this year at a school auditorium almost three hours away. That meant a painfully long bus ride each way. It was going to be a long day for them all.

The bus left McKinley at eight in the morning and after a quick stop at Waffle House, arrived at the School for Creative and Performing Arts in Cincinnati by eleven. It was a specialty school for students who had career goals oriented in performance arts such as theater, show choir, acting and speeches as well as several other talents.

The auditorium was huge, much larger than a normal high school auditorium. The stage had so many technical gadgets and gizmos they could put on a professional performance of  _Cats_ if they wanted to. Outside, the audience had to be well over a few hundred people.

"Oh god, at least we aren't the first ones to go on," Kurt said. "I get way too nervous if we're the first group. People seem their most judgmental then."

"Nervous?" Sam asked Rory as they were all checking each other's outfits for crispness and perfection.

"A little. It's me first time in front of a crowd this big. I'm used to ones like our school," he replied.

Sam gave him a comforting smile. "Don't worry about it. It's gonna be just fine. We just go out there, do our thing, and pray."

"Oh that's really gonna make him feel better. Let's go out and then pray we didn't suck!" Puck remarked. "How's my 'hawk?"

"It looks like a squirrel died on your head," Sugar told him. He rolled his eyes at her. "Sorry. Asperger's."

Rachel nudged Finn in the side and whispered to him. "When's someone going to tell her that Asperger's is not Tourette's?"

Finn chuckled. "More like when is someone going to tell her that she's just tactless. You have to admit though, it's pretty funny."

"Alright guys, we're up next. When they give us the all clear, get in position behind the curtains. Brittany, Santana, open up for us and give them something to be excited about," Mr. Schue instructed.

Two minutes later, they got the go ahead to get in position. "And now, from McKinley High School in Lima, the New Directions!" the announcer bellowed over the loudspeaker.

Brittany and Santana started off, singing their duet with newfound passion. To anyone watching, it was obvious the two women were very much in love with each other. They had chosen, of all things,  _A Whole New World,_  from Aladdin. The very same song Sam had used to sing Rory to sleep one night. The two women sat on a large decorative rug atop a moving black block that stagehands hid behind and wheeled around the stage as they sang to give the effect of a flying carpet.

The audience was eating it up, the cheers and claps sounding like a roar even behind the curtain. The fact that it was two girls singing a love song to each other seemed not to phase them. Rather than focus on the statement, they enjoyed the music itself. When it quieted down, the curtains opened, the block found it's way offstage, and they were ready to perform their group number.

_Sweet Dreams_  had been the chosen selection, with short solos by Blaine, Rachel, Mercedes, Finn and Artie. Memories of slushies pouring over them flashed in every student's mind as this was the song that had ended with the shower, but when they finished, they received nothing but applause and not so much as a drop of syrup. They had succeeded in overcoming their disaster in front of the school. They could be humiliated, but nobody could steal their talent or passion for the music.

After their performance, they made their way around the outside of the auditorium and entered into the back so they could slide into the audience without being noticed. Watching the rest of the schools perform was always fun, however, as it was interesting to see just what else other people came up with. It also was good to know what  _not_  to try later, since it was always frowned upon to copy or mimic other acts.

There was a short lunch intermission around one, and then things resumed until two thirty, with winners announced at three. The entire audience was on the edge of their seats as the announcer came out front, followed by the judges. He made the obligatory speech about how talented everyone was, what wonderful performances they had seen, and that just because a group didn't win doesn't mean they're losers and that they should definitely all try out again next year.

"And the first place winner, of the two thousand and twelve Ohio Regionals Show Choir Competition is…" The announced paused for effect, the tension in the room unbearable. "McKinley High's New Directions!"

The crowd roared, but the entire glee club cheered twice as loud. They ran up the aisle toward the stage, screaming and yelling, jumping around in excitement. This meant they were going on to Nationals.

When they reached the stage, they were awarded a large gold trophy, which Mr. Schuester held high above his head for everyone to see, everyone gathering around him, cheering.

On the bus ride back, everyone was full of energy. They were talking about everything from plans for Nationals, to plans for the rest of the weekend. It was the first time in a while that the entire club was in a good mood and had something to be happy about; not a complaint to be had.

"I'm so sleepy," Rory said as soon as they got home. "I just wanna pass out."

"You and me both," Sam agreed. "I'll put on a movie, and we can lay down and watch until we fall asleep."

"Sounds good to me," Rory replied, but before Sam had even gotten through the DVD collection, Rory was fast asleep. Sam smiled.

_He looks so cute. So innocent. I better make him comfortable._  He gently pulled off Rory's socks and jeans, leaving him lying there in boxers and t-shirt. Sam then dug out an extra blanket from the closet and wrapped the younger teen up in it, not wanting to wake him by pulling the other one out from under his back. Sam turned the movie on low volume and sat up watching it until he fell asleep a half hour later.

 


	17. Episode 17: Trust and Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: This was a very intense chapter for me to write. I had to put my mind in some screwy places to get the emotions and visualizations right, and I think I just may have pulled it off.  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit:** SkewedReality

**Recap:**  Rory had his sixteenth birthday, so now his relationship with Sam doesn't seem so taboo. The New Directions went on to win regionals and secure a slot to compete in nationals. Sebastian puts in another appearance and it becomes more apparent that he is less than popular with most of the glee club and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 17: Trust and Consequences**

Blaine and Sam were in the locker room during gym, Sam working out on the weights and Blaine punching the bag. They were having a conversation between huffs of exertion.

"You still haven't had the talk yet, have you?" Blaine asked, skepticism in his voice. Sam grunted as he pushed the bar up again.

"No. Things have been going so well, I didn't want to spoil it," Sam replied.

"You're gonna have to eventually. What are you waiting for? The last day he's here and then 'oh by the way, where do we go from here'?" Blaine asked, a punch coming every few words.

Saving Sam from having to reply, Finn entered the room, greeting them both. "Blaine, why don't you start a boxing club here? I'm sure if you got enough people, Beiste would let you go for it."

Blaine paused in his rhythm to answer him. "Maybe we could just do a Fight Club."

"Sure, why not? It might be fun to watch everyone walking around with black eyes and busted lips. Might improve some of their looks," Finn joked. Blaine laughed with him as they high fived.

"Alright, I'll catch you guys later. I need to shower and get out of here early," Sam declared, scurrying away before Blaine had time to reboot their conversation.

"See you later, Finn," Sam said, between grunts.

"Okay well I better get showered up myself. Study hall calls, and boy do I need it!" Sam declared, wanting to get away before they resumed their previous conversation. Just thinking about having 'the talk' was enough to make him feel sick.

_He's going to fool around until it's too late,_  Blaine thought, shaking his head.  _Thing is, I don't think he has much to worry about as long as Rory comes back next year. They're insane about each other. That's the kind of relationship that ends in marriage._

-ooo-

' _Do you and Sam want to go with us to another Warbler party Saturday night?'_

"Hey, I got a text from Blaine. He wants to know if we want to go to another party with them," Rory announced as Sam was changing out of his pizza uniform.

Sam sighed. "Really? Sebastian gonna be there?"

Rory shrugged and texted him back. "I told him we'd love to."

"Rory! I don't even know if I wanna go, especially if that guy is gonna be there," Sam argued, tossing his shirt in the hamper. "God, I hate the smell of too much pizza," he added, wrinkling his nose.

"It sounds like fun. We can ignore him. Or maybe he won't even be there. Maybe he finally got the hint that Blaine and I aren't interested. Come on Sam, please?" Rory gave him the puppy-dog eyes that he knew Sam couldn't resist.

"Fine, fine. We'll go. You don't play fair, giving me that face. But if that boy so much as looks at you the wrong way, I'll-"

"Ye'll smile because ye' know he can't have me. It'll be fun. I never got to do these things at home," Rory went on, hoping it would convince Sam to enjoy himself.

Sam shrugged instead. "Alright, I'll go with a smile. But no dancing with Sebastian. He might think it's okay to grind on you or something and then I can't be held responsible for what happens after that."

Rory chuckled. "No dancing with Sebastian. Now finish ye'r homework and come to bed. I'm a little, ye' know…"

"A little what?" Sam asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Sammy, ye' know I don't like to talk like that," Rory replied sheepishly.

"We went through this before. Say it, or don't get it."

"Ye' just like to tease me with it. Fine, I'm horny. I want some fun from ye'," he said, feigning irritation. "Now hurry up and finish ye'r homework, I'm already squirmy."

"I like when you're bossy and demanding. It's hot," Sam said with a devilish grin. He then picked up his book and started to read. "You know, by the time I get through these pages, you might have to just jack off," the blonde teased, grinning widely.

"Ye' are not funny," Rory warned, screwing up his face to show dissatisfaction. He pointed at the book. "Homework. Finish." Then he pointed at his crotch. "Horny. Hurry." He couldn't help but giggle at his own awkward demand.

Sam grinned. "If you're lucky, I might finish by bedtime." Rory scowled at him then started playing a video game, waiting for Sam to finish his work so they could fool around before they went off to sleep. Instead, when they went to bed, Sam's homework was still unfinished, but Rory's horniness was completely taken care of, the latter of much higher priority.

-ooo-

The following Saturday was the party. Kurt was picking them up in his SUV so they could go to the frat house again. This time, they were staying the entire time and not going out to a club.

"I guess I should mention that this one isn't a dry party, either. I hope that's okay," Blaine mentioned on the way over.

Sam shrugged. "That's cool. I don't plan to drink but if you want to go ahead," he said, nodding at Rory.

"I might have a drink or two. I can handle meself pretty good. Fits the Irish stereotype. I'll behave meself though," Rory replied, smiling.

Visiting the Warbler house wasn't as nerve-wracking as it had been the first time. Sam and Rory had met most of them the previous visit, so at least there were familiar faces around.

Blaine trotted off to gossip with his Warbler friends, leaving the other three to fend for themselves.

"He's such a social butterfly at these things," Kurt commented. "It's kind of cute really. Seeing him all excited around his friends."

They were greeted by one of the Warblers Kurt recognized from his short time at Dalton and began a conversation. While they were talking, a guy was going around handing out drinks to those with empty hands.

"Oh thank ye'," Rory said, taking one. Sam grabbed the cup from him and handed it back to the guy.

"Not his type of drink, thanks though," Sam told the guy with a friendly smile.

"I thought ye' said I could have one," Rory sulked.

"You can, but not from some stranger. Open a fresh bottle and then don't let it out of your sight. It's the main rule of partying and bar hopping. Never let your drink out of your sight, and if you do, get a new one," Sam explained. "Dad told me that when I went to my first party on my own. Of course, he was talking about soda at the time."

Rory looked confused. "But, why? Ye' don't think he spit in it, do ye'?"

Sam shook his head at the boy's naiveté. "No, but there could be something else in it you don't want, like drugs." Rory had a disappointed look across his face. "Look, baby, have fun, just be smart about it. You want a drink? Go get you one from the cooler."

Rory's frown quickly changed to a smile. "Okay! Do ye' want one?"

"I might take a sip of yours, but I don't want any really," Sam replied. Rory happily skipped off to go find the cooler filled with drinks. A couple of minutes later he returned with a Corona, a wedge of lime stuck in the top.

"Can't say I ever tried it like that," Sam noted. Rory handed him the bottle to try. Sam shrugged and took a sip. "Not bad. Gives it a little something extra."

By the time Rory finished his beer, he was feeling good and relaxed. He was going around talking to random people about everything from swimming, to soccer, to glee club. Sam kept an eye on him, making sure that he was in his sight wherever he went, keeping a look out for Sebastian as well.

"Looks like he's really enjoying himself," Kurt observed. "Are you sure he only had one?"

Sam gave him a half smile. "I saw him snag another one between conversations. I'll cut him off before he gets too tipsy."

"Good, because if he vomits in my car, we might not be friends anymore," Kurt replied, half serious.

Blaine finished making his general rounds and returned to his boyfriend. "Loosen up a little, guys. Check out the kitchen. There's snacks and sodas and stuff. All free."

"No thank you," Kurt said. "I'm just fine. I'm not used to frat parties I suppose. Too much bad fashion."

"Kurt, you know half these people already. You went to school with them. They aren't frat boys, they're Warblers," Blaine protested.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll go mingle a little," Kurt said. "Maybe they can use some tips." Blaine then turned to Sam.

"Come on, Sam, lighten up a little. I haven't seen Sebastian if that's what you're worried about. Rory's having fun, so should you," Blaine urged. "Here, have the rest of this one," he said, offering the half a beer he had in his hand.

Sam sighed and then smiled. "Thanks. I'll chill out a little." He took the offered drink and started nursing it. He really wasn't keen on getting too out of it after the Ke$ha incident and the hangover from hell.

-ooo-

"Well, well, well, look who's here!" Sebastian exclaimed, walking in through the back door and immediately finding Rory talking with another Warbler. Sebastian took one look at Rory and knew that the Irish boy had had a little too much to drink and was a bit tipsy.

"Hi Sebastian! Good to see ye'!" Rory said with a big smile. "Grab a drink, walk around. Sammy's here, too."

Sebastian smirked. "Oh joy for him. You seem a little loose tonight." The Warbler crossed his arms, a devious gleam in his eyes.

"Just having a good time. Ye' know us Irish folk can drink ye' under a bus."

The sly snake grinned mischievously. "Is that so? Then by all means let me get you another. I'll be right back." He sauntered off to the kitchen to retrieve a fresh drink for his young friend.

He returned a moment later with another Corona with a lime. Sebastian winked at him as he handed it over. "Enjoy," he said, his lips curling up into a smile that reeked of mischief.

"Thanks!" Rory said, forgetting Sam's warning not to take drinks from just anybody. He stood there talking with Sebastian a while, noticing that the music seemed to be getting louder, and the room a little darker.

"Wow, I feel a little tired," Rory stated, his eyes drooping a little. "Maybe I should find Sam," he said, his voice just shy of a drowsy mumble as he turned to take an unsteady step, feeling disoriented.

"Don't worry, I'll keep you out of trouble," Sebastian offered. Rory shrugged and made an attempt to dance, but Sebastian held onto him before he stumbled over his own feet. "Be careful, you'll hurt yourself."

Rory barely acknowledged the advice as he pulled away from his friend, determined to try and dance. With every shuffle, the world started to lose focus and his head began to feel lighter.

"I don't feel so good," he complained. "The room is kind of wobbly."

"Don't worry, I'll help you. Let's get a cold rag to put on your forehead," Sebastian said, taking his hand. "Watch your step, you're not standing too well on your own. Come on, put your arm around my neck."

"I've got it from here, thanks," came Sam's voice as he took Rory's hand back. "Come on, let's go to the bathroom." Rory nodded and slumped to the bathroom with Sam, Sebastian staring after them with fire in his eyes, his plan foiled.

Sam closed the bathroom door and sat Rory on the toilet lid. He wet the washcloth with cold water and put it on his forehead. "Relax. I think you might have had more than you should."

"But I'm Irish, I can handle it," Rory argued.

"Even the Irish have their limits. We'll get you feeling a little better and see if the others are ready to go yet. I don't want you falling in the floor when we get home. Mom and dad would have a fit."

"Okay, Sammy," Rory said in an almost childlike tone, his head swimming a little. Sam sighed to himself once again, slightly annoyed.

_I shouldn't have let him drink. Now he's feeling like crap and will end up with a hangover tomorrow. How am I gonna explain that? Mom and dad can take one look at him and see he's been in the alky. I'll be in more trouble than he will! I'm responsible for him!_

Sam immediately went in search of Sebastian, fueled by anger. He tried the kitchen first, but he wasn't there, and nobody was fessing up to having knowledge of his whereabouts. It was as if Sebastian had just disappeared.

-ooo-

Sebastian hid just out of sight as he waited for Sam to leave the bathroom. He observed him angrily storm away toward the kitchen, and then slithered into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"Not feeling too well?" he asked Rory, who was starting to feel a little less dizzy, but disoriented nonetheless. The bright light of the bathroom was starting to make his head hurt.

"Yeah. I think I had a wee bit too much," Rory admitted. "I might should have stopped after two."

"Your eyes are heavy yet somehow you still manage to look sexy," Sebastian commented with his trademark grin. "Look at me," he commanded, lifting Rory's chin with his fingertips to gaze into his eyes.

Rory's head was still throbbing. He could feel Sebastian undressing him with his eyes, a feeling that made him feel vulnerable and helpless, and even a little sick. He vaguely recalled the last time Sebastian had been in a bathroom with him. The thought made him sicker still.

Sebastian caressed his face with the back of his hand. "Out of sorts and still beautiful. Yes, you deserve so much better than that country hick," he said, his voice dripping with disdain for the blonde-haired boy.

"Don't call him that. He's amazing," Rory said slowly.

"Oh come on, surely you know I'm right. He has to work after school just to help his family pay the bills. His family isn't even anything special," Sebastian cooed. "You're so much better than that. You know it's the truth."

"No… stop saying that," Rory argued, starting to get agitated.

"I'm only saying what you know is true. I bet he can't even give you what you need," Sebastian went on, his voice condescending yet alluring at the same time.

Rory sat up straighter on the lid. "What did ye' say?"

"Oh, nothing. I just know that someone as clueless as him can't possibly be any good in bed."

"That's non of ye'r business!' Rory stated, raising his voice, his anger poking through his disorientation. He squeezed his eyes shut a moment to drown out the bright light in the room and ease his headache.

Sebastian put his hands on Rory's shoulders. "Calm down, calm down," he said, almost cooing. Rory huffed, struggling to keep his head alert. "Let me show you how it's really done."

The sly snake leaned forward, his hands still on Rory' shoulders, and planted his lips right on the unsuspecting boy's. Rory was furious. He used every bit of his strength to shove Sebastian backward onto his butt, falling into the wall.

"Stay off me! I'm not ye'rs!" Rory bellowed the best he could under the circumstances. He dragged himself up, about to stand, when Sebastian recovered and pushed him lightly back down on the lid.

"It's okay, you're afraid. It will be all right," he said soothingly. Rory stared him right in the eyes, his ocean blues turning to fiery reds. Sebastian grinned, feeding off of the raw emotions. "I like that passion in your eyes. Passion fuels the best sex, and I know you have to be the best there is, aren't you? Or are you a virgin? Could it be that he can't even do that right and he needs a real man like me to pop your cherry?"

Sebastian put his hand on Rory's leg and started to move it further north with every word. His touch sent chills down Rory's spine as even his body rejected the touch. He felt his stomach start to become queasy and when Sebastian finally reached a little too high, to a place he only allowed Sam to touch, he lost his temper.

Rory moved much faster than his drunken state should have allowed him. His fist came back and then shot forward, right into Sebastian's face, knocking him back. It wasn't a hard punch, nor was it really focused anywhere in particular; it just happened to hit the nearest thing and that was Sebastian's mischievous, grinning face.

"I said stay off of me!" Rory yelled, shaking with rage. Still running on unfound adrenaline, he unlatched the door and left. Kurt and Blaine saw him leave, and saw Sebastian sitting in the floor.

"Whoa, what just happened?" Blaine asked. "Did they just…?"

"No! He probably tried something, to take advantage of him! I'm going to find Sam, you take care of him," Kurt ordered, suddenly worried and angry. Blaine made his way over to Rory, taking him by the hand. Rory yanked his arm back, alarmed. He started to stumble but Blaine helped him catch his balance.

"Hey, hey, it's just me, Blaine," he said. "Calm down. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing. I want to leave," Rory stated flatly. Blaine tried to take his hand again.

"Rory, you're shaking," Blaine noted. "Come on, let's go outside and wait for Kurt and Sam. Maybe some fresh air will make you feel better. I promise I won't make you talk about anything you don't want to."

-ooo-

Irritated but somehow aroused by his defiance, Sebastian stood up and started to walk around, looking for where the boy went. He fully intended to continue what he started, but stopped short when he saw Sam approaching.

"What did you put in that drink?" Sam asked, his voice filled with a tone of such seriousness and demand that Sebastian actually felt a chill.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit. You put something in that drink," Sam insisted. "What was it?" He crossed his arms and took in a deep breath, trying to look as imposing as possible. He began to move closer to the devil, forcing the Warbler to back up closer to the wall.

Kurt came up right then, noticing there was already a confrontation going on.

"Come on, Sam, let's go. They're waiting outside for us," Kurt urged, starting to tug on his arm.

"No, I want to know what he gave him. It might be dangerous," Sam argued, shaking Kurt off of him, the boy stumbling back a bit by the sudden movement of his blonde-haired friend.

Sebastian fluttered his eyes. "You think I need to drug your little pixie to get him to come on to me? Oh no, he did that all on his own." His mouth once again turned up into an antagonizing smile.

"He's lying. Rory would never do that. You know it," Kurt declared. "No matter how drunk he got, he wouldn't cheat on you, especially with this guy."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Sam interrogated the Warbler, wanting to know exactly what he was referring to. His fists were clenched so tight that they had turned white.

Sebastian's lips turned up in an arrogant smirk. "Oh, nothing. He just decided he wanted to do a little experimentation with a real man," he explained, looking at Sam as if he were a lesser man than himself.

"Is that why your face looks like you were punched?" Kurt replied before Sam could speak.

"Passion, of course. He's very passionate. That is a big turn on for a guy like me," Sebastian responded. "It's no fun if he's not into it."

Kurt grabbed Sam by the arm. "Sam, let's  _go_. He's making it up. I saw Rory come out of the bathroom disoriented and Sebastian was sprawled against the floor. Let's go, now."

"In a second. I have something to say," Sam replied calmly. He looked Sebastian right in the eyes. "I'm going to tell you this once, and this is your only warning. Stay away from Rory. If you so much as look at him, speak to him, or touch him, you will regret it. I'm not a violent person, but don't push me." His voice was frighteningly controlled yet filled with such hate and anger it would make the devil himself cringe.

Sebastian scoffed. "My father is a lawyer; a state's attorney. I'd watch my threats if I were you," he said, letting loose a very faint laugh.

Sam started to walk away, but Sebastian had to squeeze in one last comment. "By the way, Sammy, he has the sweetest tasting lips."

"Fuck it," Sam said, turned around, and punched Sebastian right in the face. He flew backwards off his feet and hit his head on the cabinet. The gathered crowd was speechless. Most of them had never seen such a confrontation, and surely didn't expect one at a party.

"My father liked that!" Sebastian screeched, holding his eye, a tear dripping from under his fingers.

"Yeah? So did I. Don't fuck with me, Rory, Kurt, or Blaine," Sam declared loudly. He then looked around at the rest of the students. "Sorry to ruin your party. Just trying to clean up the trash and would-be rapists."

Kurt's mouth was agape as he followed Sam out of the frat house. "I can't believe you hit him!"

"He's lucky that's all I did. Let's go before we cause anymore trouble."

Sebastian rubbed his face, angry and aching. He had a tremendous headache. He was so wrapped up in himself that he didn't see a former Warbler, Wes, crouch down and pick something up off the ground.

-ooo-

Outside, Blaine had Rory already sitting in the truck, the door open, Blaine talking softly to him, trying to calm him down and keep him from retching.

"Sam!" Blaine yelled for him. "He's over here."

"Rory, what happened?" Sam asked, jogging up to the car.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Rory mumbled, feeling dizzy again.

Sam felt like he had been slapped. "What? Why not? Rory, what happened with him?"

"I didn't do anything, but I don't wanna talk about it either!" he replied, agitated.

"Fine, let's get out of here," Sam said, climbing in the truck. He was angry enough with Sebastian and now Rory wouldn't even tell him what happened.

The ride back was awkwardly silent. When they arrived to drop off Blaine, Sam was urging Rory to tell him what happened again.

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" Rory shouted.

"I need to know! If he did anything to you we need to take care of it!" Sam argued back, starting to get agitated again.

"Sam, calm down. He's drunk, you're both upset. Just let it go for right now," Kurt urged.

Sam was losing his temper all around. "No! I want to know what happened! He did something to you and I want to know, right now!" he yelled, waving his arms.

"I said I don't want to talk about it dammit!" Rory shouted.

Sam responded with words that he regretted saying the second they left his lips. "Just like you don't want to talk about what to do when you leave!"

Blaine and Kurt shared horrified looks.  _Oh god no, not right now,_  Blaine thought.

"No, I don't want to talk about that either!" Rory yelled back, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Why not? We need to. How about right now?" Sam replied, becoming more animated.

"Because it hurts too much to think about! Ye'r not the one having to be away from home, ye'r not the one who would have to give up his family and friends to stay here! Ye' don't lose anything, but I lose my life at home, did ye' ever think about that? Did ye' think about how I have to worry about it, every single day! I want to be with ye' so bad it hurts, but it hurts just as much knowing that to do that, I would have to give up my life where I grew up, so excuse me if I don't wanna talk about it!" Rory shouted, breathing heavily, tears running down his face.

Sam was horrified. He started to say something, but the words wouldn't come. He had made a mistake. This was not the way he wanted to talk about this. This was not the time. They were both too emotionally charged from the Sebastian incident, and Rory was still drunk. They needed to wait, but he had opened his mouth and let the dam flow, and now truth was pouring out that should have been said when they were alone, and sober.

"I…. I'm…." but Sam couldn't get the words out, backing away slowly as if he expected Rory to knock him out.

Blaine put his hand on Sam's arm and talked to him soothingly. "Sam, why don't you let him stay here tonight, to dry out? I don't want you two to keep fighting, and the way it's going right now, I think it's better."

Sam swallowed hard, tears starting to form in his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, good idea. Let him cool off." He was starting to tremble, the cool air and the reality of his words settling into his body.

Rory's chest was heaving, he was breathing so hard. He couldn't believe everything he just said, but his drunken mind couldn't help but let it flow. Normally he would have kept those things to himself. He never intended to let Sam, or anyone else for that matter, know that he was having those feelings of worry and despair. Now it was all out in the open, for everyone to hear.

"Go with Blaine tonight. Stay here and cool off and we'll take you home in the morning, okay?" Kurt said to Rory softly. "He won't hurt you."

"Don't worry, Sam, he'll be alright. You can talk about this with clear heads tomorrow," Blaine explained. "You both need to calm down."

"Thanks. I don't want to fight anymore. I know he doesn't either. Not really," Sam responded sullenly. He was in a daze, his words echoing in his head again and again, intermixed with Rory's outburst.

Blaine took Rory by the hand and led him inside. When they were halfway down the walk, Sam called out them. "Rory, I still love you!"

"Me too, Sam." Blaine led him inside, keeping him steady and calm so that he wasn't a hysterical mess while they were sneaking up to his room.

Sam swallowed again and got in the car with Kurt. He was holding back tears, but a few escaped his closed eyes.

"It's gonna be okay. Get some sleep and talk to him tomorrow," Kurt offered. He stopped at Sam's house.

"Thanks, Kurt. I'll be alright. We'll be alright."

Kurt watched him go inside, wondering what he planned to tell his parents. He recalled the previous year when he had allowed Blaine to sleep over at his house the night they all got drunk, and his father had caught them and was under the belief they had been having sex. If only his dad knew that it was just recently they started the physical aspect of their relationship.

-ooo-

Luckily, everyone was asleep when Sam came in the house. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell them in the morning when Rory wasn't home. He walked up the dark hall to his room. He didn't even bother to turn on the light as he shucked off all but boxers and climbed into bed.

He sent a text message before laying back.

_I'm sorry. I love you very much. See you in the morning._

He had been hoping for a reply before he drifted off to sleep, but it didn't come. Instead, he lay on his side and let himself simply bawl, complete with stuffy nose and headache. He never remembered being so emotionally wrapped up with someone before, except maybe Quinn, and even then he never cried when their relationship ended.

He eventually fell asleep, but had no idea when. He didn't dream, which was unusual, but perhaps that was better, because he probably would have dreamed of nothing but the fight, over and over, his harsh words cutting through Rory like a knife.

-ooo-

Rory couldn't tell if he was dreaming, or awake. He saw a text on his phone, but his eyes were too blurred to read it. Blaine was asleep on the floor, snoring like a buzzsaw.

_How did I get here? Where's Sam? Why is Blaine here? Where is here? What ugly wallpaper. I need some Advil, or a whole new head. Why is everything colored so funny?_

His head was swimming, It was aching and throbbing and hazy.

_Oh yeah, the party. Sebastian. He tried to hurt me. Where? What did he do? I punched him I think, but why? Maybe I didn't mean to. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he didn't try to hurt me, and I messed up._

He tried to remember the exact events that happened, but they weren't coming – just pieces. His mind was in no state to piece them together in a coherent story.

_I must be at Blaine's house. That's why he's here. But why is he in the floor? Shouldn't he be in bed? Why am I in his bed instead? Why am I here?_

The actual argument between them hadn't even come back to him yet. All he knew was that he wasn't where he should be, which was in bed with Sam. That's where he wanted to be.

_I want to go home, with Sam. Why am I still here? Why don't I go home? Home isn't far. Sam's home, not my home. No, he calls it our home. Everything has such funny colors in the moonlight._

He tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, everything dizzying at first, but after a few moments of standing still and closing his eyes, he was able to stabilize himself.

_It's not very far home from here. I don't want to wake Blaine. I can sneak out. This isn't real. I'm dreaming, right? It wouldn't be so foggy if it was reality. If it's a dream I can just walk home. In a dream, I wouldn't have a headache though. Maybe it's both. What did that movie have, a dream within a dream or something?_

His clothes reeked of beer. He undressed and browsed through Blaine's closet, taking out an outfit.

_He won't mind. He's asleep, so he's dreaming, too. Just like I am. He'd never notice. Unless it was Kurt. If it was Kurt he'd wake up and - I don't want to think about my friends like that. Just Sam._

Good thing Blaine was asleep, otherwise he would have seen a very naked Rory trying to squeeze into his clothes.

_I'll just leave these here. But I want my chain._

Rory dug his wallet chain from his pocket but left the rest of his clothes behind. Dream people didn't need old clothes. He looked in the mirror and frowned.

_I look stupid. His clothes are too tight and his pants too short. I don't like them. I want my old ones back. I don't look good in pink. Why does he have pink pants? Maybe they aren't pink and I just think they are._

He changed back into his old clothes, ignoring the odor of cheap beer.

_For a dream I feel so tired. Why? I thought you were supposed to feel great in a dream. Maybe it is real. But if it's real, why do I feel like this? Am I feeling this at all though, or is it my imagination? Is it my imagination in my dream or am I dreaming in my imagination?_

He checked that he had his wallet and phone then padded downstairs and then out the front door. He turned the latch so it would lock behind him, just in case people in dreams stole from each other.

He started his journey down the sidewalk, but his head was still aching and throbbing. The street lights made his eyes hurt, but he had to keep them open to see.

_I don't want to fight anymore. Wait, fight what? Or who? Who was I fighting with? Sebastian? I think he tried to touch me. I think he did. He tried to grab me dick. What happened after that?_

Walking slowly down the street, he started to see strange waves of color before his eyes. It was like an aurora borealis floating in front of him. He kept blinking as if trying to clear it away but it wasn't going.

_Wow, this is funky. It's like a laser light show. Or strobe lights. Sam should see this. Maybe he can't see it. If he was here he might not be able to. I wish he was here. It's cold and lonely and scary out here by meself. What if someone tried to hurt me?_

In reality, there was nothing there except street lamps. His legs were cramping up, and his feet ached, and his back hurt. While he kept walking, small memories floated back to him.

_Sam yelled at me. He got mad. He's mad because I wont talk to him. Why won't I talk to him? About what? I can't remember. Maybe it's secret. No, I don't keep secrets from Sam. No, I do. I do keep secrets from Sam. Dark secrets I don't ever want him to know, because they hurt._

He kept walking, ignoring pain he was feeling throughout his body. Suddenly the memories filled in.

_I yelled at him first. I wouldn't tell him what happened. It's a dream, he should know already. What is it he wants me to talk about so bad? Oh, oh that. I don't want to talk about that. It hurts too much. I don't want to leave him. Wait, I don't have to. It's a dream so I don't have to choose. I can have both. Why would I have to leave him anyway? I can take him with me. He can come to Ireland, and we can be together. Or if this is a dream, we can have our own island and be together in the middle of the sea._

Rory had walked farther than he could have managed while sober. He was almost home.

_Almost there, then I can see dream Sam. Oh god I yelled at him so much. I was so mean. Is he going to hate me now? I bet he will, because I acted like I had hate. But I don't hate him. I can't. There's no way I could ever hate him. He means too much to me. I love him._

He was only about a mile left from the house, his heart starting to race as frantic thoughts entered his mind over and over.

_He deserves better than me, he doesn't deserve to be yelled at. He should have a nice girl or boy who treats him better. He's way too good to me for me to act like that. Oh god, Sammy, I'm so sorry. It just hurts so much I don't know what to do. Please don't hate me. I'll do anything to make up for it. I just can't stand ye' hating me. It would kill me. The pain!_

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket – a reminder that he had a text waiting. It was from Sam. The timestamp showed that the message had come in not too long after he'd fallen asleep. Or at least, when he thought he fell asleep. The bright light from the phone made his eyes hurt more, but he squinted and was barely able to make out the message. He still wasn't sure if he was in a very vivid dream, or if it was reality in a haze.

_I have to get to him. He isn't mad at me. He thinks it's his fault, but I'm the jerk. I can't let him think I hate him now. He might be hurting. I have to be with him. Where am I? Oh, so close. I can make it there if I run. I won't let him hurt. It's not fair._

And run he did. He broke into a full sprint down the street, huffing and puffing. He was sobering up, but he was still tired, and his head was still in a haze of some sort. The house was coming closer. He could see the cars, the yard, the trees.

_I'm so sorry Sammy. I just want to be with you. I love you so much. Oh god it hurts though. It hurts so much. Forgive me for everything. I don't deserve it, but please forgive me. Don't leave me..._

He made it to the house, and looked around. No lights were on. He had a key in his pocket but didn't want to alarm anyone. Maybe the window was open. Sometimes they slept with the window cracked for fresh air.

Rory crept around the side of the house like a thief in the night and saw the window to their bedroom. It was indeed cracked a couple of inches.

_Good, I won't wake anyone up. If I wake them up they might get mad and then want to know what happened and then they'll find out we had a fight. How could I explain my cruelty to them?_

He squeezed his fingers under the window and pulled up until it gave way slid the rest of the way open. He started to crawl through, one leg at a time, before he lost his balance and fell, tumbling into the room, landing on his back, knocking over the nightstand in the process.

Sam woke up, alarmed and fearing an intruder. He reached for the lamp but found it wasn't there. He could hear heavy breathing and mumbling. And something that smelled like alcohol. He slipped out of the bed, and made out a figure on the floor, rubbing its head with one hand.

"Rory?" he asked quietly. "Is that you?"

"Sammy?"

"Oh thank god. I thought someone broke in. Why were you climbing through the window?"

"I didn't wanna wake anyone up coming in the front door. I guess I messed that up, huh?" Rory replied. Sam helped him up and then wrapped his arms around him.

"How did you get here? Did Blaine bring you?"

Rory shook his head. "I walked. At least, I think I did. I'm not sure. My head is still fuzzy so I can't tell if I was dreaming or if I'm in reality but just hazy. I guess I could ask ye' since ye'r the only person I talked to since I got up."

Sam chuckled. "Oh Ror, you're real. You're awake. I'm here." He pulled him close again and nuzzled his chin on the boy's head. "You walked all the way here?"

"Yeah. I guess I did, then."

"You reek of beer." Sam observed, shaking his head, his senses slowly waking up as well.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Sobered up?" Sam asked, sensing that maybe he wasn't.

Rory shrugged. "I don't feel drunk, but I feel weird. Like hazy and seeing colors and stuff. It's like being in a dream. Like that movie."

"Probably some sort of..." He thought a moment and then decided not to address the idea that Rory may have been drugged. "Anyway we can talk about it in the morning," Sam stated.

Rory pulled away from him. "No, now. I want to talk now. But just about the party. We can talk about the other thing tomorrow, when I'm sober."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I was so mean to ye'. I was scared and upset and drunk, and I don't know what was going through my head," Rory admitted. "I still don't know entirely what's going on with me."

"I guess when you said you didn't want to talk about it, it hurt my feelings a little. I thought we could talk about anything. Everything. I didn't expect it, so I yelled back at you. I knew you were drunk. I shouldn't have pressed it," Sam apologized. "I was worried Sebastian did something to you."

Rory looked up at him. Only their eyes were visible, since they still hadn't bothered with a light. "He tried. I hit him."

"You hit him?"

"Yes. I had to. He wouldn't stop," Rory said. "He tried to… do stuff."

"Stuff like what?"

"He tried to kiss me. I shoved him away. He tried to touch me, he grabbed me  _there_. He was saying mean things about ye', and then he touched me and so I hit him," Rory answered.

"In the face?"

Rory nodded. "In the face. I remember it now. He put his hand on me and I hit him and then I left."

Sam laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Because I hit him too!" Sam chuckled. "The fucker deserved it."

"What happened?"

"I went to find out what he gave you to drink because I think it was drugged. He wouldn't tell me, and then he started mouthing off. So, I punched him in the face," Sam replied smugly.

"His pap is a lawyer. He might try to get ye' in trouble."

Sam shook his head and smiled. "No. No, he won't. He drugged that drink. He'd be stupid to try anything. What he did is considered date rape."

"But we weren't on a date," Rory replied, his face filled with confusion. Usually Sam thought Rory's lack of knowledge regarding American culture was cute, now it made his stomach turn as he thought of Sebastian attempting to use Rory's confusion to his own advantage.

"That's just what they call it any time someone drugs you and tries to have sex with you when you normally would say no. The drugs totally knock you out, or like with you, make you so disoriented that you can't say no. Either he didn't give you much, or you're a lot stronger mentally than he anticipated," Sam explained.

"Sooo, ye'r saying he tried to rape me?"

"He could have, if he tried hard enough. If you hadn't stopped him. If he did that, I'd make sure he was sharing a cell with Azimio. If I didn't kill him first."

"Ye'r so protective over me. I'm so sorry I yelled at ye'. I'm so so so sorry Sammy. I love ye' so much, I just-"

Sam pulled him close again, lightly stroking the still woozy boy's back. "Shhh… calm down. Don't get worked up. It's gonna be okay. We just had an argument. It happens. I'm not mad at you. I'm glad you're safe and sound."

"I don't want to ever see him again. For any reason, ever," Rory declared, his voice strong and insistent but colored with sadness and hurt. Sam's arms tightened instinctively as he heard the raw emotion in his boyfriend's voice.

"If he's smart, you won't. I'd hope two punches in one night would give a hint," Sam said confidently.

Sam sniffed the air, the odor of beer assaulting his nose. "And let's get you out of these clothes. You stink like cheap beer and scandal," he said, attempting to start steering the conversation in another direction.

Rory smiled adoringly at him and disrobed. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and then threw his clothes in an empty trash bag and tied it up to keep the scent out; Rory would sneak them in with the next load of laundry he did.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked.

The younger teen rubbed his eyes. "Really tired. My head is kind of weird. I can't describe it. It's like I'm here but not here. I guess that's why I feel like I'm in a dream. It was a lot worse before. I felt sick, like I was gonna throw up, and my head hurt so bad I couldn't stand it. I still 'ave a headache."

"I'll get you some Advil. Get in bed and lay down," Sam instructed. When he came back in the room, he had a cup of water and two pills. "These are safe, I promise." He hoped that Rory would understand he was trying to ease the tension with a slight joke, and not become further upset.

"I trust ye'. I think ye'r the only one I trust completely," Rory said, taking the offered medication.

Sam reset the nightstand and then left the cup of water on it before moving the small trash can from under his desk to Rory's side of the bed. "If you feel sick, and can't make it down the hall, use the trash can. Don't worry about waking anyone up. Nobody knows you were drinking or anything, okay? If anyone asks, you had bad food that made you sick."

"Okay, Sammy," Rory said, his voice like a little kid's. He laid on his side, and closed his eyes. "I really am very sorry, about e'erything tonight. I love ye' so much, ye' know that, right?"

Sam smiled. "Yes, I know. And I love you too. That's why you're gonna go to sleep now, and when we get up in the morning, we can talk about that thing you don't wanna talk about but we have to."

"Run that by me be one more time," Rory replied, chuckling.

"We'll talk in the morning, okay? Or sometime tomorrow. By bedtime though, we're having that conversation no matter what."

"Okay, Sammy," Rory replied, his voice tinny. He was trying not to let Sam know he was starting to cry again, thinking about what the conversation would involve. He didn't want Sam to know he cried so much. He wanted Sam to think he was tough, and strong.

Sam kissed him on the forehead and laid back down, throwing his arm over his boyfriend. "Wipe that dust out of your eyes and go to sleep," he said, using Rory's own euphemism that had saved him embarrassment once before.

-ooo-

Rory slept in until eleven in the morning; two hours later than Sam had. Sam covered for him by explaining that he ate something that didn't agree with him and that he'd had trouble getting to sleep, because he was nauseous. His mom accepted the explanation but his dad had the knowing look that dads get when they know something isn't as it seems.

"Be sure to tell Rory that whatever it was he 'ate' last night, he shouldn't 'eat' so much of it again. Portion control can make a big difference," Mr. Evans stated. Sam picked up his subtle hint and mouthed a 'thank you' to him when his mom wasn't looking.

After breakfast, his dad stopped him in the hallway. "Sam, you know I trust you, and I trust Rory. I know you're young and prone to trying 'new foods,' but be safe about it. Never 'eat' and drive, and watch how much you 'eat' so you don't get sick. I know I don't say it often, but I love you boys, both of you. I don't want to see you get 'food poisoning' or worse. Catch my drift?"

"Yes, sir. I don't think we'll be 'eating' anymore of that kind of 'food' again anyway. Thanks for being cool about it, dad," Sam replied.

"I'm not dumb. I was your age. I used to 'eat strange foods' all the time. I had many times I didn't feel good the next day. I know telling you not to do it  _at all_  is futile, but at least I can encourage you to be safe and smart about it."

Rory stumbled into the hall, his hair a mess, and his face flushed. He looked awful. He didn't even notice anyone else was there, but just shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

"Damn, how much did he 'eat' anyway? A whole buffet?" Mr. Evans asked with a chuckle.

Sam shook his head. "I think he had about three plates. You know how the Irish are; they think they can eat- you know what, I can't think of a way the metaphor works." He threw his hands up in the air in defeat as the metaphor got the better of him.

"Son, you get an A for effort," he laughed. "Get that kid cleaned up and dried up. He looks like shit run over twice."

"Yeah, I think he might need a little help getting past the hangover. You know, the hangover from eating too much," Sam said, grinning. His dad smiled and walked away, leaving Sam to tend to his hungover man.

Sam grabbed some fresh clothes from the closet and drawers, and then knocked on the bathroom door. Rory didn't answer so he just opened the door and stepped inside. The boy was in the shower, sitting down and hugging his knees.

"What are you doin?" he asked.

"The steam and water feels good. I feel really crappy," Rory replied.

Sam stripped and stepped in the shower with him, helping him to his feet. "Come on, let's clean you up good, and you'll feel better right there."

"Did ye'r parents say anythin'?"

"Mom thinks you got sick from bad food, and dad, well dad knows the truth but didn't say it in front of mom. Actually he kept saying you shouldn't eat so much, meaning don't drink so much."

"Ye'r pap is really awesome, Sam. Ye'r mam too."

"Yeah, they are, aren't they? It's why I love them."

"And they love ye' a lot. I can tell e'erytime ye' talk. Ye'r a real close family," Rory observed as Sam soaped up the loofah and started scrubbing his backside.

"They love you too, ya know. They think of you as family now. You  _are_ family now."

Rory didn't reply. Now he had family in America in addition to his family at home. So if he went home and never came back, he wasn't just leaving Sam, he was leaving his family here, too. Either way he was screwed.

He didn't notice that Sam had already scrubbed him up and down, even washed his hair for him. He was so lost in thought that the rest of the world was going on around him without him even mentally being there.

"I think we'll talk tonight. When you've had a chance to finish drying out. Let's try and enjoy the rest of the day. We'll take it easy. Watch some movies, play some games. By the way, I texted Blaine back for you. He left a message on your phone wondering where you were. I told him you came home and were fine except for a hangover."

"Thanks," Rory said sullenly. "I hope I didn't worry him."

"Nah, he's fine. He figured you might have had me pick you up or something real early. I told him you walked home and then climbed through the window like a really bad burglar. I told him I had to hit you over the head with a baseball bat because I thought you were gonna rob me."

Rory looked up at him like he was insane.

"I'm kidding! I just told him you walked home and were fine with a hangover. He texted back that we could talk about it later."

Rory scoffed playfully. "Ye'r so silly, Sammy. A real joker. " He kissed Sam quickly on the lips, appreciative of his efforts to cheer him up.

-ooo-

"What do you wanna watch first?" Sam asked, heading to the DVD shelf. "Your choice."

" _Avatar._  I want to watch  _Avatar_  with you," Rory said.

"Again? And I thought I was bad!"

"It's ye'r favorite. I want to watch it," Rory insisted. Sam smiled at him and popped the movie in. He sat next to the younger teen and snuggled up with him while they watched the movie.

It wasn't long before the kids bounded into the room, fearing that Rory was dying.

"Oh stop being so dramatic," Sam scolded. "He's just a little sick. He'll be fine."

Stacy put her hands on her hips and turned her nose up at him. "Mr. Rory, are you okay?"

Rory smiled at her. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I have ye'r big brother to look after me."

"Well hurry up, because I want to play," Stevie complained. "I want to beat you in soccer and I can't do that if you can't play."

"I hope you feel better, Mr. Rory," Stacy said, climbing up on the bed and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "There, all better."

Rory smiled again. She was so adorable. "Thank ye'."

"Okay guys, he needs some rest. Skedaddle," Sam urged them. The young pair reluctantly left, not wanting to leave their friend.

"You better take good care of him Sammy!" Stacy warned.

"Yeah, or else I'll beat you up!" Stevie added. They left the room and Sam closed the door behind them.

"Peace at last," he said. He clicked on the movie again and they returned to their previously snuggly state.

-ooo-

Sam woke up around four in the afternoon, not even realizing he had fallen asleep. He looked around the room and saw that Rory was sitting at his desk, back toward him, talking on the phone. He attempted to discern who it was but then realized he didn't understand a word he was saying. It was all in Irish; he was talking to his parents.

Not wanting to interrupt, he went to the kitchen to grab some juice. His mom was making some tea, humming to herself.

"Oh hi, honey. What are you boys up to?" she asked.

Sam shrugged. "I just woke up. I guess I dozed off. Rory's on the phone with his parents I think." He pulled down a glass and filled it with ice, than browsed the juice cartons. Grape would be the pick for now.

"Still? He was on the phone with them over an hour ago. I heard him talking Irish when I walked by earlier. I sure hope everything is alright." She sounded worried.

"I'm sure it's just some homesickness or something. I'll find out later if he wants me to know." He took a big swig of his drink and then smiled as if he were on a TV commercial. "What's for dinner tonight?"

Mrs. Evans scratched her head thoughtfully. "I was thinking about ordering pizza, but I figured you might be kind of sick of that. Maybe just some Chinese takeout or something. I feel a little lazy tonight."

Sam chuckled. "How dare you feel lazy, mom. You only work five days a week and raise three kids."

"Four, now. Don't forget, he's part of the household too," she reminded him. It amused him that both she and his father had so openly accepted Rory into the family. Not only had they accepted him, they embraced him, and even had parental love for him. He had to wonder if Rory's parents would ever feel the same way about him.

When he went back to his room, Rory was still on the phone. He met eyes with him for a moment, smiled, and then started to worry just a little when all he got in return was a weak half-smile. Sam gave his boyfriend', kissed the top of his head, and plopped back on the bed.

Sam played his video game on a very low volume while Rory continued to talk on the phone. It was hard not to pick up certain words. He heard his own name, Blaine's, Kurt's, his sibling's names, his last name (probably in reference to his parents).

_I wonder if he's telling them about Sebastian. I don't hear his name, though._

Curiosity was getting the better of him. He couldn't help but spend more time observing Rory's conversation than playing the game. Intonation and body language was universal, and whatever was being said, Rory was showing signs of discomfort, upset, and oddly enough, the occasional cheerful comment.  _What the hell are they talking about for him to react that way?_

After a while it sounded like the conversation might be coming to a close, just judging by the tone. Sam got up and grabbed another glass of juice from the kitchen and set it down on the desk. Rory was finally off the phone, and appreciative of the drink. His throat was somewhat dry from all of the talking.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, hoping the boy would share with him what he had been talking about all that time.

Rory nodded slowly, not looking up at him. Sam just stood there, watching him.

"You're a poor liar, Ror. What's wrong?"

"That was me mam and pap. Well, and Seamus for a few minutes. He wanted to tell me about his football game. His team won," Rory replied.

Sam arched an eyebrow. "And your parents had to say….?"

"A lot of things. About us. Ye' and me, I mean."

"How long were you on the phone with them? Mom said she walked by over and hour ago and you were yakking away in Irish."

Rory sighed, picking up the phone and looking at the timestamp. It read two hours and thirteen minutes. Instead of answering, he just showed it to Sam.

"Wow, long time. So, are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to drag it out of you bit by bit? I'm not very good at playing twenty questions," Sam said.

"I suppose it's about time we had that talk, ye' think?" Rory asked sullenly.

Sam's heart began to pound. He had been pressuring Rory to actually talk with him about their upcoming plans, but he had always put it off, pushing it away and ignoring it. Sam didn't realize how much he was actually appreciating that, because in truth, he didn't really want to talk about it either. Now, they had to bite the bullet and talk.

"Let's sit on the bed. So we can be comfortable. I want to look at ye' while we talk," Rory stated, crawling up on the bed and sitting down.

"Before we start, I want you to know that whatever we say right now, I'll always love you," Sam said.

Rory gave him another half-smile and said the same. "It's my love for ye' that makes this all so difficult. If it wasn't for that, I could go back to Ireland and pick up where I left off, no big deal. But… I met ye' and I fell in love." Sam swallowed hard, fearing what may come next.

"I don't regret that one bit. I never will regret it. As the song says, "I've had the time of my life, and I owe it all to ye'," and I do. That's why I can't just run away back to Ireland."

"Ror, I-"

Rory put his finger over Sam's lips to silence him. "Sam, there's so much I don't think ye' realize has to happen for me to stay here. Paperwork. Visas. Other legal… crap. I 'ave to be able to work, and drive."

"I'm coming back next year, that isn't a question. But… at the end of this school year, I 'ave to go back home for the summer."

"I figured that much," Sam said.

Rory smiled. "Well, during that time, ye' better plan to take off work for a week or two. Mam and pap want ye' to come out to Ireland for a visit."

Sam brightened up momentarily. "That sounds amazing… but… there's no way we can afford-"

"Ye' don't 'ave to. My mam and pap will pay half of the ticket. They really want ye' to come. To see me home for once. To be able to experience what me home is like, where I'm from. And I really want ye' to come, too."

"I'd love to. It would be one hell of an adventure, that's for sure. I've never even been out of Ohio, Colorado, or Tennessee, let alone another country halfway around the world," Sam stated. "But what's the catch?"

Rory looked confused. "Catch?"

Sam smiled, mentally noting that he should write a book of Americanisms for the foreigner. He quickly rejected the idea because, all in all, it was entirely too cute.

"Ah, what's the downside?" Sam clarified.

"Oh. There isn't one, not really. Just come. Ye'r family has done so much for me, my family wants to try and give ye' a great experience in our native home. I'll have to stay home all summer, though."

"It'll be hard, but you do need to spend time with your family. It's been months, and the only time you saw them was during, you know, the whole incident," Sam said.

Rory nodded. "I told them how much I love ye', everything ye' mean to me," he said, biting his bottom lip.

"What did they say?" Sam asked nervously.

"They said, well more me pap said, that young relationships can be short lived. What he would like to happen, is that we continue to be together for as long as we want to. He said it would be best not to make permanent plans yet, just in case. There's so much involved, if I were to stay here. It's not just signing a paper. There is a lot more to it."

"So, we'll take care of it!" Sam said enthusiastically, throwing his hands in the air as if to say 'That's that!'

"Pap tells me that if we are still together by the time I graduate, he gives me permission to make whatever decision I want. They'll do what it takes to keep me here, if that's what I want. They'll even help ye' in Ireland, if that's what ye' want." He had a look of uncertainty across his features.

Sam's face brightened up. "That's great news!" He threw his hands in the air again.

"Sam, I agree with me pap. We shouldn't make a final decision yet. We should still be together, just like we are now, and keep going. I 'ave two more years after this. If we're still going strong, then we can make some major decisions then. But to make them now, it seems reckless," Rory said, finding it hard to look up, afraid he might see the sorrow he expected to appear on Sam's face.

"I… I understand that, actually. Your pop is right. We should see how things go. As long as I know you're coming back, I'll be okay. I think. And we should keep being together. It's the best way to know how compatible we are." He forced a smile, even if he really just wanted to hold on to the boy and never let him go.

"So, in two years, then we can talk life decisions. I know I've been avoiding this discussion for a long time. I'm sorry. But I needed to think. I needed to talk with me family. Sam, ye' realize that depending on what we decide, if I come here, it means I leave me whole life there behind. Me family, me friends. E'erything. That's a lot to ask of a kid."

Sam leaned forward and hugged him before kissing the top of his head. "Ror, I understand. I said I agree with your pop. Let's keep doing what we do, and when the time comes to make a decision, we will." Sam reached across the small gap between them to take his boyfriend's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Thank ye', Sam, for understanding where I'm coming from. To stay here, I give up a lot. I 'ave to know I'm making the right choice."

Sam smiled some more. "I know. The summer is gonna be tough without you around. It's only for a couple of months, but it will seem like forever."

"Sammy, I want to be with ye'. I want to be with ye' so bad, it hurts. I love ye' so much, it hurts. It makes me heart ache with the idea of not being with ye'. I just want to keep going how we are, and see what happens," Rory explained, staring him in the eyes. "I'm sorry I can't give ye' a better answer, or a better solution, but it's what I feel I 'ave to do."

"It's okay. I agree with it all. We'll prove to ourselves we belong together, and then, as a couple, we can decide.  _When the time comes_. We can have our house with a white picket fence, a dog and two and a half kids, in whatever country we end up in."

"How do ye' have half a kid?" He screwed up his eyes in a manner that screamed 'What in the hell?' as he tried to visualize a kid running around, cut in half longways.

Sam laughed. "It's another one of those expressions. Some sort of national average of a household or something. The ideal American dream or something. It just sounded good."

Rory blinked away the water forming in his eyes and hugged Sam, wrapping his arms around him very tightly, not letting go. "Thank ye' for understanding that this is not me trying to run away from this, from us."

"I think we're on the same page, baby. I'm glad your pop talked to you. I think it was good for you to get some advice from him," Sam said. "So… boyfriends, going strong, right?"

Rory smiled for the first time – a genuine smile filled with delight. "I'm afraid to see the phone bill! Over two hours overseas long distance. I hope me pap has a nice drink before he looks at it."

"You're silly. Now that we had the talk, and we're on the same page, let's get back to what we do best."

"What do ye' mean?"

"I mean, grab a controller, and help me recover from this failure of a game, so I can save some sense of dignity."

Rory smiled again and did as he was told. Somehow life suddenly seemed a lot better – the pressure and fear of the special talk behind them.

-ooo-

_We need to talk ASAP. Alone_

Sam looked confused as he read the text from Blaine. It sounded urgent. Especially for six in the evening on a Sunday.

_IRL or phone?_

Within seconds he got a reply from Blaine.

_IRL. Only need 10 min_

What could Blaine possibly want? Apparently it was very private, since he wanted Sam by himself. Not wanting to alarm Rory, he simply told him that Blaine needed a ride to the store to pick up a prescription and Kurt wasn't available.

_Be there in 5_

Within a few minutes, Sam was pulling up in front of Blaine's house. Blaine was waiting for him in the driveway.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked. "Is everything okay?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. Come on, inside." Sam began to worry. Not only had Blaine outright said that something wasn't okay, but he was acting very secretive. When they got up to his room, Blaine closed and locked the door.

"Okay, you're kinda freaking me out. What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Promise me that you will keep a level head and stay calm," Blaine said, staring Sam right in the eyes.

"Okay, yeah, sure. Sure thing."

Blaine went to his desk and pulled open the drawer and shuffled around for something. "I got a call this morning. From Wes."

"Wes. Wes. The guy at the party? Your friend from Dalton?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes." He was fumbling with something in his hands nervously. "He found something of Sebastian's that would be of particular interest to you." He held out his hand and dropped something into Sam's open palm. It was a small plastic baggie with two red pills.

"What's this?" Sam shrugged. "Advil?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. GHB."

Sam was confused. "What the heck is that?"

"GHB? The most popular date rape drug on the streets," Blaine replied. "It fell out of Sebastian's pocket when you punched him and he fell in the floor. Wes nabbed it up before he had a chance to notice."

Sam started to shake in fear. "Wait, this was… Sebastian's?" Blaine nodded slowly. "Are you saying?"

"Sam, calm down. You promised," Blaine warned as he noticed Sam's eyes were starting to fill with fire, and his breathing was getting heavier.

"Did Sebastian put this in Rory's drink?"

Blaine turned around and pulled something else out of the drawer. A beer bottle.

"You're shitting me. You have the bottle he drank out of?"

"Not quite. It's an empty beer bottle from the party. Wes gave it to me. I uh… I have an idea." Sam was looking at Blaine like he had five heads. "Just hear me out, okay?"

Sam sat down on the edge of Blaine's bed, trying to register in his head that this tiny pill had been put into Rory's drink and then used in an attempt to lower his resistance in order to take advantage of him. His hands were starting to sweat as he clenched his fists.

"Sebastian's father is a lawyer, and I can guarantee you that he's going to try and cause you some trouble for that punch. We have no way to actually prove that it was in Rory's drink, but you and I both know it was."

Sam kept staring at him. "Okay, so….?"

"We lace that bottle with the GHB, but before we do, get Rory to put his mouth on it, and hold it, and get his prints on it. We can tell Sebastian that we have evidence that he drugged the drink that he gave Rory with GHB," Blaine explained. "And this," he held up the beer bottle, "will be that evidence. He won't know this isn't the actual bottle."

"Okay. But uh, what's the point of all this?"

Blaine sighed, inwardly irritated with his friend's ditziness. "We blackmail him into keeping quiet, more or less. If he doesn't raise a stink about the punch, then we won't do anything about the GHB. He tries to cause trouble, we bust out the drugs."

Sam slowly nodded his head. "Okay, I follow you now. But why do we need Rory's prints and stuff on it? It won't matter, will it?"

"Just in case. Sebastian is a clever little jerk, apparently. So we will be prepared just in case he tries anything."

"I thought Sebastian was supposed to be your friend. What happened with that?" Sam asked.

Blaine smirked. "He was a decent enough guy. Always nice to me and all. But after everything that happened last night, and then finding out all this from Wes? Ha! Sebastian is lucky I don't go for violence or else I might have thrown a punch in there too."

"One thing, though. What if Rory won't go for it? He can be a little… odd about things sometimes," Sam asked, feeling uneasy talking about Rory in a negative light in any capacity.

"I'm sure if you stress the importance of keeping Sebastian from running his mouth, he will go along with it. Especially if it keeps you from getting in trouble."

"Are you telling Kurt about any of this?"

Blaine nodded. "Now that I've talked to you, yes. I didn't want to say anything until we talked."

Sam sat there a moment, silent and thoughtful.  _That asshole drugged my boyfriend. He put this… shit… in his drink, and tried to- ugh I don't even want to think about it. What if he succeeded? What if Rory hadn't fought back? The mental damage and trauma. Fuck, he has had a horrible time since he got here. Beaten. Stabbed. Stuck in a walker for weeks. Now he's been drugged and this close to raped._

"Sam? You okay?" Blaine asked. Sam was still lost in his thoughts, not even hearing the question.

_Maybe… maybe it would be better for him to go home. What am I thinking? I don't want him to go home! No, but his safety. What next? He may not be so lucky with whatever crap comes his way next. If he was at home, this wouldn't have happened. He'd never have gotten hurt._

"Sam, I know what you're thinking. I see it in your eyes. It's not your fault. It's not Rory's fault, either. He was trying to have a good time. He thought he could trust a friend, and Sebastian took advantage of him. It could have happened to anyone. Don't punish yourself," Blaine offered.

"I feel guilty, Blaine. I feel like… like everything that has happened to him has been partially my fault."

"How? How is it your fault?"

"He got beaten up because he was openly gay. Azimio went after him because of that. He knew he couldn't take me, so he went after the smaller guy instead. If I hadn't pushed him to-" Sam trailed off, the guilt hitting him harder.

Blaine put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Look, that's bull. Azimio didn't go after him because he's gay. If that were the case, he would have tried it with me and Kurt ages ago. Azimio is a bully, and he saw Rory as an easy target because he's an outsider. It could and probably would have happened even if you were never a part of his life."

"But-"

"But nothing. It's the truth. You are not responsible for what's happened to him. Sebastian at the party? He would have done that anyway, even if Rory was straight. If anything, he is safer because of you. It was you who cared for him nonstop while he was in the hospital. It was you who stood up for him with Sebastian. Those awful events that took place? It's because of you he managed through them, so stop with the guilt."

"I… I have to do a better job," Sam muttered.

"A better job of what?" Blaine asked, already having an idea of what the answer would be.

Sam gave him a half smile. "I have to do a better job protecting him. Keeping him safe. I have to make sure he isn't put in anymore danger."

Blaine scoffed. "Do you realize how you sound right now? Sam, we aren't in one of your sci-fi movies. This is real life, and in real life, you can't protect him from everything. Shit happens, and you can't stop it. What you  _can_  do, is be there for him when he needs you. That's what matters, Sam."

"But I have to take care of him. He's my responsibility," Sam argued.

"No, he's not. In case you didn't notice, he's as much of a man as you are. He's responsible for himself. His own decisions, his own mistakes and successes.  _Your_  job is to support him. To be there for him to cry on your shoulder when he's upset. To be there to share in his happiness when something good happens. To offer an open ear to listen when he's upset. You have a hero complex, Sam, and it's time you worked through that if you really love him."

"What's so wrong with wanting to be his hero?" Sam asked sullenly.

"Nothing. Be his hero, but let him be his own man. You can't protect him from the world, but you can help him survive it by being next to him, to work through the tough stuff together. You aren't raising him. You're complementing him. Two halves of a whole," Blaine explained passionately. "If you keep this up it can push him away, eventually."

Sam grinned. "You ever think of being a relationships therapist?"

"No. I'm just a friend who cares about his friends and their relationships. So go home now, tell him about all this, and then just relax," Blaine replied, his voice controlled and calm.

Sam got up and wrapped his arms around Blaine in a tight hug. "You're a really good friend. Thanks for watching out for him. For us." He got ready to go, but not before Blaine gave him one last piece of advice.

"Don't forget, be his equal, not his parent. Let him live, and live with him. You two are gonna be fine. Just loosen up, and let him fly a little bit." Sam nodded and left, feeling better. It was never good to find out your boyfriend was given the date rape drug, but he did have to remember that even through a drunken haze, Rory still fought back and held his own. He wasn't helpless.

_It's time I gave him a little more credit than I do. He's strong as hell. To go through so much and still keep going. Blaine's right though. I can't protect him from everything. I can just help him through whatever troubles he does have. He's a man, just like me. It's time I gave him credit for that. Thank you, Blaine. Now it's time to go home, go over the plan, and then get ready for bed. I'm wiped and tomorrow is school and work._


	18. Episode 18: Revenge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: After such a traumatic episode, this one actually takes things in a slightly less intense direction. We finally get to see Rory get to take it a little easier!_ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality

**Recap:**  Sam and Rory went with Blaine and Kurt to a frat party and Sebastian happened to be there. Apparently he can't take no for an answer and went a little too far trying to hook up with Rory. On the way home, Sam got into a major argument with a drunken Rory, who then stayed with Blaine to sober up. After mental despair and a wacky trip home, Rory made up with Sam and they finally had their major talk. Blaine got the inside scoop on Sebastian and now they have a plan to get back at him and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 18: Revenge?**

"So, how is Blaine doing?" Rory asked as Sam came into the room, emptying his pockets on the dresser.

"He's fine," Sam said flatly. Rory set down the controller and got up, reaching out to touch Sam's shoulder, turning him around to face him.

"Sam, what's wrong? Are you sure Blaine's okay?"

Sam nodded his head and swallowed hard. Rory stared at him with worry, his eyes demanding answers. "Yeah, Blaine's fine. Honest injun."

"Honest engine? Like vroom vroom?" Rory asked, making car noises and moving his hands as if he were turning an invisible steering wheel, all the while a bewildered look on his face as to why Sam would say something like that.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle. "No, another one of those expressions. Injun, like Indian."

"Okay, so what's the matter then? And don't say 'nothing' because I'm smarter than that. Out with it, Sammy," Rory said sternly.

"Blaine got a call from his friend Wes," Sam said. "The guy who threw the party at the frat house," he prompted when Rory's face showed no signs of understanding. "Anyway, he found something that fell out of Sebastian's pocket when he fell after I hit him."

Rory shrugged apathetically, but motioned for Sam to continue anyway. In reality he just wanted to put it all behind him and never think about it again. "Sebastian had GHB on him," Sam said, showing him the plastic baggie containing the offending substance.

"Why does that matter? It's just candy or medication, right?" Rory asked, his voice now laced with concern. He wasn't so naïve to think it was candy and wasn't sure why he even said it. Most likely he was subconsciously trying to stop his nerves from acting up.

"Do you even know what GHB is?" Sam asked with angry insistence. "It's the date rape drug I told you about. GHB, one of the most commonly used date rape drugs. It makes you disoriented, sleepy, weak, and can give you nausea and headaches. It can even make you hallucinate. Everything you were feeling last night!"

Rory continued to stare at him blankly. "He put this in your drink!" Sam blurted out, frustrated.

"He…? Ye' really think so?" Rory's voice was barely a shade above a broken whisper. He didn't want to believe what he was hearing. It was so sinister, so wrong. It was downright evil.

"Yes. There's no other way to explain why you were acting and feeling the way you were. He's been after you, and Blaine too, since he first laid eyes on you and you've seen what kind of person he is. Don't think that using drugs to take advantage of someone is too low for him," Sam explained, his voice solemn.

Rory's shoulders slumped. "Am I goin' to be okay?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Sam gave him a comforting smile and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Rory's hand and pulling him into his lap. "Yes. You're going to be fine. It's worn off by now, and it doesn't have any lasting effects unless you use it constantly."

Rory gave a sigh of relief and nuzzled his head against Sam's shoulder. "Thank God. Ye' had me scared for a moment."

"You need to take this as a warning, though. You can't trust everyone you meet, Rory. I don't mean go around skeptical of everyone, but be cautious." Sam chuckled at his own parenting.

"Don't take candy from strangers, don't accept open drinks from anyone at a party, and did I mention you had a nice right hook when you punched him?" Sam said in a rush, deliberately trying to lighten the mood to calm Rory.

Rory chuckled. "Ye' really think I knocked him a good one? I wish ye' could have seen it. I wish I could have seen when ye' knocked him back."

"You get what I'm saying though, right?"

"Yes, Sammy. I do. I'm lucky this didn't turn out worse than it did. I 'ave me friends to thank for that. You, and Blaine, and Kurt."

"One other thing, by the way. We have an insurance policy on Sebastian, just in case he even thinks about trying to start trouble over those punches, but I need your help," Sam said, a look of determination crossing his features.

Rory gave him a quizzical look. "Wes gave Blaine a beer bottle leftover from the party. It isn't the one you had, but it's the same kind. We're going to put some GHB in it with some leftover beer, that way we'll have something as proof to use against him."

"So why do ye' need me?" Rory was still completely lost.

"I need your spit."

"What?" Rory asked, a look of disgust plain on his face.

"Don't look so grossed out," Sam laughed. "We kiss all the time and have done far worse than spit!"

Sam cleared his throat in at attempt to make himself sound a little more serious. "But no, I need you to spit in the bottle so it can mix with the beer, and I need you to kind of act like you're drinking out of it. To get your prints and stuff on it. It needs to be real in case we have to use it against him."

"This seems awfully elaborate," Rory replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"Maybe. But after all that, we're going to meet Sebastian and give him a warning. If he tries anything, we go to the police with this bit of evidence," Sam said, holding up the bottle and baggie, "and even his father can't argue that in court. As long as he leaves us alone, we'll leave him alone," Sam stated confidently.

"I think ye' and Blaine need a hobby. But it does sound like a smart idea. I'll do me part as long as I don't 'ave to take anymore of that drug." Rory crinkled his nose in distaste and shuddered at the thought of more drugs flowing throughout his body.

Sam shook his head. "No no, you won't. Just think of this as your way of fighting back. Defending yourself. Showing him he can't intimidate you or take advantage of you."

Rory nodded. "Okay. But one condition."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Condition?"

"Yes. Ye' have to kiss me," the younger teen replied, his voice lighter, his face brightening with temptation. "Right now, because I'm this close to ye'r lips and they look so-"

Rory didn't get to finish before Sam pressed their lips together, drawing Rory's tongue into his mouth. The two continued to kiss passionately for what seemed like hours, but was merely a couple of minutes.

"How's that?" Sam asked playfully when they finally came apart for air.

"Perfect," Rory said, a smug smile on his face. "Now grab ye' r controller and let's go head to head a few before bed," he ordered. They both climbed up on the bed, laying on their stomachs, staring up at the TV while they raced in  _Mario Kart_. Sam won two out of three games and then declared his prize.

Rory propped himself up on his elbows and turned toward his boyfriend to await the verdict, smiling mischievously.

"No sex, not tonight," Sam declared. Oral fun was the usual prize for winning a game. It added a bit of excitement and kink, as well as a little added motivation, but Sam had something else on his mind. He could see Rory relax slightly at his words.

"I just want to cuddle with you," Sam said with a smile. Rory was glad Sam wasn't asking for sex because truth be told, he wasn't in the mood for it. He was still slightly disturbed about the fact that Sebastian had actually drugged him in an attempt to rape him.

Sam's soothing voice pulled Rory back out of his dark thoughts. "You have to sing to me, though. One of your beautiful Irish songs. When you sing, it sounds like… like the words just flow out of your mouth like water."

Rory agreed and as the pair changed for bed, they snuggled up close, turned off the light, and then Rory softly sang to him until they were both fast asleep, Rory safe in Sam's arms, free of the drugs, the alcohol, and most importantly, free of deception.

All night long, Sam dreamed of those words flowing from his boyfriend's mouth like a river. He even imagined him in peasant's clothing sitting atop a large rock next to a waterfall, singing away, trailing his hand in the water. A perfect bit of peace and tranquility that had been evading them both for far too long.

-ooo-

Monday after school was the confrontation with Sebastian. Blaine had his number saved in his phone from before any of this happened, when he still thought they were friends. He texted Sebastian and told him to be at the Lima Bean at five.

"You ready for this?" Sam asked as they waited for the Warbler to arrive. He gave Rory's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Ready. Let's show him he can't push around Rory Flanagan," the boy declared confidently. Just then, Sebastian strolled in, a smile twisting up the corner of his mouth.

"Well well, look who we have here. If it isn't Rory and his… whatever you are," Sebastian said in a condescending tone, rolling his eyes after making sure both boys saw his judgmental glare.

Sam rolled his eyes right back and then nodded to his boyfriend. "I think we 'ave something to discuss, Smythe," Rory announced confidently.

"Ohh, using last names now? What are you trying to act tough or something?" Sebastian mocked.

"I don't need to act it. We came here just to give ye' a message. I know what ye' tried to do to me at that party," Rory stated.

Sebastian smirked, not worried in the least. "I didn't do a thing. I was merely making sure one of my favored guests was having a good time, enjoying himself. It's not my fault if we ended up in the bathroom together. You can be a little aggressive."

"Ye' can't play mind games with me, Smythe. I know the truth. Ye' put a drug in me drink. Ye' tried to take advantage of me."

Sebastian smirked again, obviously over confident. "Prove it."

"Sam?" Rory held out his hand and took the bottle from Sam. "See this? This is the bottle of beer ye' gave me at the party. One of our friends secured it when he found ye'r drugs. Do ye' know what we plan to do with it?"

For a change, Sebastian's smug mask slipped from his face, his expression turning to one of worry and disgust. "That bottle doesn't mean anything. It could be any bottle. How would anyone know?"

"DNA testing, moron," Sam said, finally joining the verbal banter. "If we took this to the cops, we could have them do a DNA test to show it is definitely Rory's prints and saliva in this bottle. Throw on top of that the residue of GHB in here and you're…"

"Fucked," Rory finished. Sam couldn't help but giggle at Rory's vulgarity. He so rarely swore, it sounded funny coming from him.

Sebastian inhaled deeply. "What is it you want from me with this little… blackmail?" his arrogant mask reappeared as he waved his hand dismissively toward the bottle.

"What we want is  _nothing_. If you stay quiet about the two of us hitting you, we keep this to ourselves. We can't have you making trouble running to your daddy," Sam told him, his voice mocking him childishly.

"So you want me to forget about your little violent streak, and you forget about that bottle, is that right?"

Rory nodded. "That's the way of it. Ye' try to make any trouble for us, we make trouble for ye'. Ye'r lucky we don't go to the police anyway, but I've been through enough. Do we 'ave a deal, Smythe?"

Sebastian sighed angrily. "Yes, we have a deal. I don't like it, but we have a deal. But let me tell you both something. You have made a dangerous adversary." Both Rory and Sam scoffed at him, trying their best to hold back laughter. Sebastian sounded like a very poor movie villain.

"One last thing," Sam began. "You stay away from us. Stay away from Rory, from me, and from Kurt and Blaine. You're nothing more than a whore trying to break up happy relationships for your own perverse sexual crap because even your own  _hand_  can't stand you."

"Just so ye' know," Rory piped in, his voice strong and confident, "ye' could never turn me on, no matter how drugged I am. Ye' disgust me. I gave ye' the benefit of no doubt. I trusted ye' and gave ye' a chance, and was even willing to be friends. Instead, ye' went and did things that I can't forgive ye' for."

The Warbler rolled his eyes. "Can the melodrama, boys. I've suddenly lost interest in you. I have things to do, so if you'll excuse me." He gave them a curt nod and turned around, leaving the shop. Rory let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Good job," Sam complimented. "You can be pretty hot when you're being tough. I think I like the reappearance of forceful Rory." He kissed him on the top of his head and slung his arm around him. "Ready to go home? I've gotta get ready for work."

As they drove home, Rory sent Blaine a simple text message:

_Mission Accomplished._

-ooo-

At the next glee club meeting, Mr. Schuester had some wonderful news for the group.

"We have found out the perpetrators of the great slushie incident," he announced proudly.

_Who was it? Was it the Cheerios? The football team? Karofsky? Azimio's friends from prison? Was it a teacher?_ So many questions were asked at once, it was too chaotic to know who asked what.

"None of those. After an exhaustive effort by Principal Figgins, and several other teachers, we discovered that it was the hockey team."

"The hockey team? Why would they do that, Mr. Schue?" Finn asked. He already knew the answer, but was hoping it was a fluke.

Santana scoffed at him. "Please, Finn. If it isn't the football players, it's the hockey team, and if it wasn't them, it'd be the basketball team or baseball, or the underwater basket weaving association. It's always gonna be somebody."

"She has a point. Everyone in this school hates us. I'm surprised they haven't all teamed up and come up with some elaborate scheme to try and get rid of us all," Artie concurred.

"I don't think they want to kill us. Just crush our dreams." Tina stated flatly.

"For some of us, that  _is_  killing us," Rachel corrected her.

Puck, of all people, called order. "So does this mean we get to kick their punk asses? If so, I'm in the lead on this one!"

"Puck, calm down. No, you don't get to kick anyone's butt. Instead, the actual masterminds of the plot are suspended for an entire week," Mr. Schue declared.

"Can't we humiliate them the way they did us?" Artie asked. "I mean, sure, suspension is great and all, but the slushie incident will live on forever. Suspension will be forgotten in a month."

"I'm with wheels on this one," Puck said. "Like I said, I'm more than willing to lead the charge."

Mr. Schue cleared his throat and waved his hands in the air. "There will be no charge to lead. You all know I have a zero tolerance policy for violence, and anyone in here who thinks that retaliation is the way to go, will find him or herself barred from the club. Is that clear?"

Mumbles of acknowledgment were heard all around. Nobody was particularly thrilled that the hockey team was essentially getting away with it, since the great slushie fall would go down in McKinley history. The only real way to beat them now was to win Nationals.

-ooo-

Rory found Sam in the men's room, on his knees in one of the stalls. He recognized his sneakers and jeans.

"Sam? Are ye' alright?" he asked.

Sam hacked twice before answering, grumbling out an answer. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little sick."

Rory winced as he heard his boyfriend vomiting once more. He swallowed back his own disgust as he tried not to focus on the sound of retching echoing in the bathroom.

"Please, Ror, get out of here. I don't want you listening to me throwing up," Sam requested between coughing and gagging.

"I'll be right back, Sam," the teen replied, hurrying out of the room. He returned moments later with a large cup of ice water. Sam was standing at the sink, wiping his mouth and breathing heavily. "Here, drink this. Its just water, but it'll make ye'r throat feel better."

Sam took the cup and slowly took several sips, closing his eyes and willing himself to not choke. "Thanks. I'll be fine."

"No ye' won't," Rory argued, placing the back of his hand against Sam's forehead. He took a sheet of paper towel and folded it in half, wet it, and then put it against his boyfriend's burning, pale skin. "Ye'r head is so hot, Sammy. I think ye' probably 'ave a fever."

Sam shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. I don't get sick. I have a really great immune system."

"Sure ye' do, but apparently right now it's taking a vacation. I'm taking ye' to the nurse. Come on," Rory insisted. Sam started to protest, but seeing it was useless, allowed Rory to lead him down to the nurse's office.

"I'm calling your parents and letting them know you're excused to go home. You have a slight fever, Samuel," the nurse informed him. "I doubt it's anything to worry about, but you need to get some rest. Take some Pepto Bismol for the nausea. Drink lots of clear fluids. If you still feel like this in the morning, go to the doctor."

"I'll be fine, thanks," Sam argued. "I don't get sick, I have-"

"Yes yes, you have an incredible immune system. That's what all the kids say. Now stay here while I call your parents. You need to get back to class, Rory."

"Yes, ma'am. Sammy, I'll get a ride home from someone. Don't forget to call in to work. I'll come take care of ye' when I get home," Rory told him. He gave him a comforting smile and then left for class.

The nurse grinned. "Sammy, huh? I don't remember you having a brother or anything. Some other relation? You seem awful close."

"You could say that. We're very close. We watch out for each other," Sam stated. Apparently the nurse wasn't in on McKinley gossip. "Can I go on home now?"

"But I thought you didn't get sick, Mr. Evans?" the nurse teased. "Yes, get out of here. Take this slip and get your mom or dad to sign it when you come back."

Sam thanked her and grabbed his things before making his way to the car. He sat in the seat for a moment, the door open, the cool breeze hitting him.  _My god that feels so good. Fresh air._

_Blaine is giving me a ride home. Feel better, love you_

Sam smiled when he saw the text message come across. He sent a quick reply and then finally got moving.

When he got home he went straight to his room and changed into pajama bottoms and a tee shirt – the classic uniform for sick people. He was still feeling nauseated, and quickly had to make another contribution on to the porcelain deity. His throat felt raw and his head was aching.

Searching frantically through the medicine cabinet, he came across some anti-nausea medicine and downed it, grimaced at the taste, and rinsed his mouth out. He went in his room, put on a movie ( _Star Wars Episode IV),_ and laid in bed. Within minutes he was out cold.

When he finally woke up again it was around five. Rory was sitting at the desk, writing and listening to his iPod. Sam got up and crept up behind him, then tickled his sides.

Rory yelped in surprise and pulled off his earphones. "Nice to see ye' feel good enough to be troublesome!"

"Actually I still feel like crap. I just had to take the opportunity to attack when I saw you weren't heavily guarded."

"Ye' watch way too many sci-fi movies, Sam," Rory responded with a grin. "How do ye' feel?"

Sam sighed. "Like I wanna throw up at any moment. Headache. Tired." Rory put the back of his hand on his forehead again. Still burning up.

"Where's a thermometer? You feel hot as hell on the Sabbath." Sam pointed him to the hall closet where he dug out a plastic thermometer with slip covers. "Bend over like a good boy so pap can take your temperature," he joked.

"Ha. Ha. Ha," Sam replied sarcastically, opening his mouth to permit the object inside. When Rory read it, his eyes went wide.

"One hundred and one! No wonder ye' feel so bad. Ye' need a doctor right away," Rory stated, then before Sam could comment, he ran out of the room, returning a moment later with a look of disappointment.

"Why the long face?"

"Ye'r mam said you can go to the doctor in the morning but to just get some rest for now. She wouldn't let me call the ambulance," Rory explained.

Sam almost fell in the floor laughing. "I don't think it's serious enough for all that." Rory crossed his arms and smirked.

"Fine, but you're gonna get back in bed right now." He pointed to the bed as if Sam were a small child being disciplined. "Go on, or I'll give you a whippin'!"

Sam chuckled but crawled back under the covers, sitting up against the wall. "Okay, so now what, Nurse Rory?"

Rory handed him the Playstation controller. "Now you play a game until dinnertime. I 'ave homework to finish."

"Yes sir!" Sam said, giving a playful salute. Rory ruffled his hair and then returned to the desk, plugged his iPod back in, and set back to his schoolwork. Sam started to play a game, but it made him a little nauseous, so he clicked over to Netflix, and chose a movie instead.

Around six-thirty, Rory disappeared for about ten minutes, then came back with a TV tray. After setting it up in front of the desk chair, he left again, only to return once more with a bowl and a cup.

"Ye'r mam said chicken noodle soup is the traditional American meal for sick people. Ye' can 'ave some water and bread too. I'll bring it in a second. Don't spill that on ye'r blanket, either."

"What's the tray for?"

"I can't let ye' eat dinner by ye'self," Rory stated, leaving again. He made two more trips - one to bring Sam his drink and bread, and the other to bring in his own plate and drink.

Sam sniffed the air, but found he could barely smell anything at all. "Uh, what's on the menu?"

"Baked chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and canned corn," Rory answered. "Nothing ye' would like. Eat ye'r soup."

Pouting at his less appetizing meal, Sam went to work on spooning his soup into his mouth, trying not to make a mess. If there was one thing his full lips were good for, it was slurping things off a spoon. When he was done, Rory took his bowl away and came back to finish his own dinner.

"You know I'm perfectly capable of fending for myself," Sam said smugly.

Rory said something in Irish that had the tone of "Shut up." He took another bite of chicken before saying anything else. "It's me turn to take care of ye' for once. Ever since I got here, ye've been looking out for me left and right. Now it's me turn. Now be nice or else tomorrow it's pea soup."

"Oh now that's just cruel," Sam complained. "Can't I have tomato?"

Rory shook his head. "No, it's bad for ye'r stomach. Ye'll be throwin' it up, and ye'll freak out because it will look red like blood."

"You are a difficult nurse, I tell ya!" Sam teased. "I can't imagine what you'd do to your kids if they were bad."

"The same thing me pap did to me. A sound whippin' on the bum with me hand, or maybe even a paddle if it's a bad enough offense. It worked for him, I turned out okay," Rory said. Sam got a look of horror on his face.

"I can't believe he still did that to you. It seems barbaric," he noted.

The younger teen shrugged. "That's just the way of it. Ye' better believe I didn't get in much trouble. Me pap didn't play around, and it was always on ye'r bare bum. In his opinion, punishment was meant to be bad. Seamus still knows the way of it last I knew."

Sam grimaced at the mental image, remembering that the worst he ever got was some mild swats on his pants. "Yep, your kids are doomed."

Rory frowned, but it suddenly made him wonder, what about kids? It was way too early to think about what the future may hold, but someday he did want kids. Stacy and Stevie proved more than anything that he had the urge to have his own, and taking care of Sam even made him realize how much of a parent he could be. How would that work out anyway, if they were going to have kids? Surrogate? Adoption?

"Hey, I was just kidding. You'll be a great father someday," Sam said, noting his blank face. "I mean, look at the way you are with me. You make me do my homework, you help me with my dyslexia, you keep me on track. You're a parent already, right?"

Rory shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. My big kid Sammy." He forced a grin and then instructed Sam to take a shower before bed, to get the gross feeling off of him, and get rid of some of the germs.

"I'll be sleeping on the couch for now. Don't wanna catch ye'r germs. And use this for anything ye' touch," he said, handing Sam a bottle of disinfectant spray.

When it was time for bed, Rory tucked Sam in under his covers, again like a little kid. He kissed Sam on the forehead and told him to get a good night's sleep. He flicked off the light and started to close the door, but Sam called out to him.

"Hey Ror? Thanks. For taking care of me," Sam said softly. Rory smiled at him and pulled the door closed. He spent another hour on the couch, fiddling with his laptop and listening to his iPod before he called it quits for the night as well.

-ooo-

All night long, Sam tossed and turned. He couldn't get in a comfortable position to fall asleep. His stomach felt like it wanted to empty itself every time he moved from one way to another. His head was aching again, and his sinuses felt like they were inflated from the inside out. He kept coughing, and twice, he actually had to go vomit in the bathroom.

The first time he got up, it woke Rory up. He got off the couch and went to check on him, discovering he had locked the door. He waited patiently until Sam came out and he inquired as to how he was faring.

"I feel like shit. I can't sleep, I can't breathe, everything aches. I think I'm dying," Sam said, his eyes drooping with black circles under them.

"Ye' do look awful. Ye'r going to the doctor in the morning, ye' hear me?" Rory said sternly. "Get some medication and get better. Come on, I'll tuck ye' back into bed."

Rory ushered him back to bed, tucking him in under the covers as before, kissing him on the forehead, and going back to the couch. Despite the fact that he felt like death twice over, it made him happy to be so well taken care of.

In the morning, Sam called the doctor and as luck would have it, they could fit him in that afternoon. Until then he spent the day attempting to get sleep that he had missed all night. That was a useless effort. He put on a movie, but the fast action motion made him dizzy. He went on his computer, but the bright LCD and the small text gave him a headache. It seemed like no matter what he did, it made him feel worse.

When he wandered into the kitchen around noon, he found a bowl of soup sitting out with a note on it, in Rory's handwriting.

_Heat this up for two minutes in the microwave. Eat as much as you can, and drink lots of water or ginger ale. Text me when you get out of the doctor's office. See you this afternoon. Love, Rory_

Sam smiled as he read the note.  _I think he might be worse than mom. She never left little notes, she just figured I knew what to do._  He put the bowl of soup in the microwave and heated it up, poured himself a glass of ginger ale, and sat at the table. It took the better part of a half hour to get it all down.

Mr. Evans came home and picked Sam up to take him to the doctor. After his visit, they stopped by the pharmacy to drop off his prescription, and then dropped him back home. As it turned out, he had a late onset of flu.

When Rory came home, he crept into the bedroom quietly, not sure if Sam was sleeping or awake. He was sitting up, but it looked like he had dozed off.  _Good, he needs the rest._  Rory quickly gathered up some items – his laptop, iPod, notebooks, a few other things – and then retreated to the living room.

"Mr. Rory, you can live with me until Sammy gets better," Stevie offered.

"No, I want him to stay with me!" Stacy argued, clutching his arm.

Rory smiled at them both. "Stacy, I think it wouldn't be right for me to stay in a young lady's room. She needs her privacy. I appreciate ye'r offer, it's very sweet of ye', but I better stay in Stevie's room for now. We don't get a lot of guy-time, do we, Stevie?"

Stacy frowned, feeling rejected. Rory pulled her into his lap and hugged her. "Ask ye'r mam, she wouldn't want a boy in a young lady's room either."

"Rory's right, honey. You're too old to have boys in your room. Even if it is Rory," Mrs. Evans said, winking at him.

"How about we go to ye'r room and get out ye'r color paper and scissors and glue and markers. We can make Sammy get well cards," Rory suggested, hoping to appease her somewhat.

Stacy liked that idea and squealed with excitement. "I'll go get everything right now! I'll be all ready when you come in!"

"I'm not very good at that artsy stuff," Stevie noted. "I'm better at sports."

"Ye' can help us out, okay? Ye'r brother would love to have a card from ye' too. It would mean even more to him since he knows ye' aren't all that fond of crafts," Rory told him. "After that, we'll go in the pool for a little bit. I need to practice and I want to teach ye' some tricks in the water."

Satisfied with that compromise, Stevie trotted off to Stacy's room as well. Rory grinned at himself and then went on to the little girl's bedroom. She already had everything spread out on the floor. Several colors of construction paper, scissors with pink handles, glue sticks, markers, crayons, stickers, everything a little kid could want to make a get well card for their big brother.

Stacy seemed quite capable of making her own card without any trouble, but Stevie had no idea where to start. Rory helped him pick out a color of paper he liked, showed him how to fold it, and then helped him paste a blank white sheet inside to write a message on. Stevie then took to drawing on the front of it. He drew a football goal and two stick figures, both with blonde hair and big jerseys. It was obviously Sam and himself. He picked out a sticker of a football and stuck it on there as well.

By the time Stacy was done, she had made something only a girl could craft at such a young age. It was red and blue, and she had cut out several pieces of paper to make figures out of them. She arranged them to represent both of her brothers, herself, and Rory. She spread stickers all over it and wrote him the cutest message a little girl could muster.

"Let me see yours!" Stacy demanded, curious to see what a teenager could create. Rory was with Stevie – he wasn't particularly skilled with crafts, but he did manage something. Similar to Stevie's, it was folded in half with a white sheet glued inside to write on. On the outside he had drawn a singing fish.

"Why a fish?" Stevie asked. Rory grinned.

"His friends at school call him  _trouty mouth_  because he has a big mouth. A trout is a kind of fish," Rory explained. That sent both children into hysterical giggles as they started to chant 'trouty mouth.'

"It needs a boat," Stacy advised. "For you to sit on and listen to the fish sing."

Admiring her cleverness, he took a crayon and quickly sketched a small boat and then drew a four leaf clover sitting inside of it. "That's me," he said, pointing at the clover. "I can't draw people, so uh, I'm a four leaf clover. Luck of the Irish, to make him feel better."

Excited at their handiwork, the kids begged to give Sam their cards. Rory checked to make sure he was awake, and the three of them stepped inside the room, grinning.

"Ye'r brother and sister were worried about ye', so they made ye' cards to wish ye' well," he explained. Both kids handed him their cards at once, Sam taking them with a smile and looking them over.

"Thank you. Both of you. That was very nice to try and make your big bro feel better. Ya'll can't get too close though, okay? I might get you sick, too, and you don't want this," Sam said. "I owe you both some hugs when I'm better."

"Mr. Rory, give him your card too!" Stacy demanded playfully. She tugged on his hand until he relinquished it to Sam.

Sam chuckled at the singing fish, picking up on the trouty mouth reference right away. He read the short note inside:

_I hope you feel better soon. I'll do me best to take care of you. Love, Rory_

"You guys are just too adorable," Sam said, addressing all three of them. Rory dismissed them to get their swimming suits on so they could go play. "You're so good with them, Ror. You'll make an awesome dad someday."

Rory didn't know how to respond to that, so he just smiled nervously. "I'm gonna go play with the kids in the pool for a while, until dinnertime. I'll bring ye' ye'r soup when it's ready. Ye'r pap went to pick up ye'r medication. Take some as soon as he gets back."

"Yes sir!" Sam said, giving him a salute. Rory rolled his eyes playfully, smiled, then left the room to catch up with the kids. Sam took the three cards and set them up on his nightstand so he could see them. Somehow, just three little hand crafted cards by three people who meant so much to him made him feel just a little bit better. Even Stevie, who hated art and loved sports made the effort to draw him a card.  _I think I might just be the luckiest brother in the world._

-ooo-

Rory came home from glee club, unusually cheerful considering how worried he was about Sam. He trotted into their room to check on him, to find he was asleep.  _Good, he needs some rest. I can tell him later._

He went and sat in the kitchen, using the table to do his homework. Every few minutes he would grumble or sigh. Math was not his strong suit. In fact, his math scores almost kept him from being able to transfer overseas, but he was able to just squeak by in the final test.

When Sam's parents got home with the kids, he finally got to share his big news. "I've been selected to race in the intermediate class swim meet Sunday!" he announced with a huge grin on his face.

"Congratulations dear," Mrs. Evans said. "You just let us know what time it is, and we'll be there."

"What exactly does intermediate class mean, anyway?" Mr. Evans inquired. "I mean, laps are laps, right?"

Rory shook his head. "This time I have several different races to do. One is underwater relay, which should be a lot of fun. Another is laps like before. The last event is a backstroke race. Then there is some special event that isn't judged, but Coach Roz won't tell us what it is."

"What's a relay event?" Stevie asked. "It sounds hard."

"No, it's actually really fun. In fact, why don't we try it out? I think ye' both will like it," Rory suggested. The kids ran off without further coaxing, getting their swimsuits. "Looks like I have some practice to do."

"You set yourself up for that," Mr. Evans said, chuckling. "Go on, dinner will be ready in a little while."

Rory smiled, gathered up his books and dropped them in Stevie's room before changing into his trunks. The kids were both waiting anxiously by the pool. As soon as Rory came into the pool room, they jumped in.

They had one rule about the pool - the kids were never to get in without an adult to supervise them. They learned that was no joke, either, when Rory found them splashing about by themselves while he changed a few weeks prior. He banned them from the pool for the rest of the week, and to further the punishment, they had to sit on the side and watch while he did his practice laps on the days he didn't have practice at school. After that, they learned that even Rory would uphold the rules and had no problem with seeing to it they were reprimanded if necessary.

"Okay, let me explain the relay to ye'," Rory began. "We got these sticks here. We toss 'em into the water and let 'em sink to the bottom. Ye' both wait here and when we start, one of ye' swims to the bottom, picks up a stick and comes back. After ye' hand off the stick to the other person, they dive under and go for a stick. Ye' take turns until all the sticks are back up here."

"How do you win?" Stacy asked, confused.

"Well, this is done with teams, actually. Two on two. The winner is whoever gets all their sticks back first."

"How are we gonna play then without Sammy? We only have three!" Stacy said, pointing at each of them to count. "Three, see!"

They heard a loud voice coming from the doorway. "Now you have four!" Mr. Evans said, strolling in the room in his trunks. "How about me and Stacy against Rory and Stevie?"

"Nooo! I want Mr. Rory on my team!" Stacy squealed.

"Go with ye'r pap first. Then we can switch up. We'll do three rounds. Last round is me and ye'r pap against both of ye'."

That idea seemed to appeal to her, so she gave her approval. "You better go real fast daddy! I don't like losing!"

"Yes ma'am!" her father said, saluting. Now Rory knew where Sam got his sense of humor from.

They had a total of eight sticks. Rory threw them in, trying to get them all relatively close together. "Only take up one stick at a time. Ye'r partner can't take their turn until ye' put the stick in their hand and they put it on the side there," Rory instructed.

First up was Rory and Mr. Evans, to show them how it was done. The kids counted to three and the two men dove underwater, making a mad dash for the sticks. They came back up, Rory slightly quicker than Mr. Evans. They handed off their sticks and sent the kids on their way. It took them slightly longer, but Stevie came back first, Stacy trailing behind. When they were done, Rory and Stevie had won.

Stacy pouted until Rory reminded her that it was her turn to be on his team and then she brightened up right away. Rory was able to make up for her slower time, and they won that round, much to her delight. Strangely enough, the kids managed to beat the two older competitors.

Later at the dinner table, the two kids recounted their triumph to their mother. Rory took Sam his bowl of soup and let him have a treat of cherry ginger ale instead of plain.

"Mom said you have some big news. Did you get a solo or something?"

"Nope. Try again!" Rory teased.

"Uhm... you found a cure for cancer?"

"No, but I'll keep trying on that one. One more guess!"

"Sebastian got in a car accident, and his face will be horribly disfigured for the rest of his life?" Despite his joking tone, that actually wouldn't have bothered him one bit, and might have even given him miraculous recovery.

Rory rolled his eyes at the last guess. "No! I'm swimming in the intermediate class at the meet Sunday afternoon!" he announced, his tone suddenly one of excitement.

Sam brightened up a little. "Really? That's awesome! Congrats. I'm so proud of you!"

Rory blushed a little. "Thanks. It's gonna be a big event. I want ye' to come!"

"Nah, I got shit to do that day," Sam said, trying to maintain seriousness but failing miserably. "Of course I'll be there you dummy! I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"I'm so excited!" Rory exclaimed. He then went on to tell him about the playtime with the kids and his dad. He told him about the glee club meeting and the well wishes everyone had for him. Aside from Sam being home sick, the day had actually been amazingly wonderful.

-ooo-

All day Saturday, Sam was grumpy. He slept in until noon and then complained about even having to get up. He whined about eating soup  _again._  He complained that there was nothing on TV  _again_. He was sick of watching DVDs, that he had seen fifty times before. He was sick of playing video games he had beaten twice already. Overall, he was just sick of being sick.

"Quit being such a bogger," Rory said with a frown. "Ye' aren't gonna feel any better acting like that now are ye'?"

"I'm tired of being locked up in this room all day! I feel like a prisoner. It's not like I have full blow flu, just a nasty cold or something," Sam exclaimed, frustrated.

Rory scowled at him. "Ye've been getting better ye' know. A lot better. now if ye' quit ye'r moanin' I might just take ye' to the park for some fresh air."

"Oh boy, the park," Sam said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not five. I just wanna get out of here for awhile," he complained.

Rory grumbled and stomped out of the room mumbling in Irish. Sam had no idea what he said, but he was sure that it wasn't nice whatever it was. He plopped down on the couch, his arms crossed, as he stared at the TV, the kids not noticing he had returned from Sam's room.

Stacy finally took notice of him and saw his sour expression. "What's wrong Mr. Rory?"

"Ye'r brother is being a real ar- I mean he isn't being very nice," Rory caught himself before he made the mistake of swearing in front of the kids, which would be twice as embarrassing since it was so rare that he talked that way.

"He's being a whiny jerk, isn't he?" Stevie asked.

Rory shook his head disapprovingly. "Don't say jerk, Stevie. It's not nice. Just say he's being whiny."

"Sorry, Mr. Rory. But he is!" Rory chuckled. At least the kid was standing up for him. Stacy frowned and then walked off. He assumed she was going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later she returned and sat back down in front of the TV, hiding a grin unsuccessfully. He heard the shower going; Sam must have finally dragged himself out of bed.  _About damn time._

"Rory?" he heard Sam call his name. He turned around to see Sam standing there, freshly showered, his hair combed, wearing jeans and a tee shirt with a windbreaker, and a pair of sneakers. Rory looked him up and down like he had two heads. "I'm ready to go to the park now."

Rory turned back around and looked at Stacy, who was beaming with a guilty expression, giggling quietly. "Okay. Let me get me jacket."

The park was close enough to walk to, much closer than Blaine's house had been the night Rory walked all the way home. Sam stretched his arms as if he had been caged up all day. "The fresh air feels so good!"

Rory walked with Sam in silence. He didn't have anything in particular to say, so he was just quiet, looking up at the trees and the birds. Rory hadn't spent much time outside since Sam had gotten sick, so he just took in the small sounds of nature. He felt Sam gently touching his fingers, and then clasping his hand. They walked in silence until they arrived at the park, families all over the place, running around with pets and having fun.

"There's a trail over there. It leads through the woods and to a lake with a bridge. It's really pretty. Really nice view," Sam informed him.

"Okay, let's go then," Rory said quietly. It was obvious he was feeling down about something, Sam wasn't sure what to say to him, so the silence continued, but without the tension that had been there earlier.

They found the trail leading into the woods, the sunlight poking through the sparse leaves. It was warming up, but it wasn't quite to the point where the plant life was fully restored yet. Rory continued to look around at the trees, pausing to watch a bird on a lower branch of a thick tree.

"I think that's a blue jay," Sam observed, pointing up at it.

"Sam, it's red," Rory stated, trying to withhold a chuckle. "That's either a cardinal or a robin."

"I know, I just wanted to get you to laugh," he replied. "Just so I know you aren't mad at me."

Rory sighed. "I'm not mad at ye'. It just hurt me feelings when ye' started being so grumpy to me all day and then got snappy when I suggested we come here. I thought it'd be really nice to come out in the fresh air, walk around, relax, but then ye' got mean, and it hurt me feelings."

Sam's face fell. "I'm sorry. I was a jerk, huh?" Rory nodded his head. "I'm just so sick of being sick. I've been cooped up in that room for almost a week, feeling like crap. I shouldn't have snapped at you though. You were trying to be nice."

Rory smiled. "Thank ye'," he replied. "I know how ye' feel. It wasn't easy being stuck in a hospital bed, either."

"Thanks. For taking care of me. You did a real good job. I'd hug you, but I don't want to get you sick," Sam said.

"Ye' already held me hand. Besides, ye' aren't contagious anymore." The teen didn't let him contemplate it, and hugged him first. "Just don't let it happen again. Next time I might let ye' suffer if I don't like ye'r attitude."

Sam smiled sheepishly. "Point taken. I'll be nice."

They walked in a comfortable silence a little while longer until they reached the lake. There wasn't anyone else around; it was a picture perfect scene, the two of them standing together on the little wooden bridge. Ducks were inspecting right below, disappointed they didn't bring any bread.

The sun was out but not so bright they were blinded. A breeze started, cooling them off. "It really is very pretty out here. I'm glad we came. You know, it's embarrassing to admit, but you know who made me realize I was being a jerk to you?" Sam asked.

"Let me guess. Short, blonde, cute as a bug in a rug, smiles like her brother?"

Sam laughed. "Yep, that's her alright. She came in my room with her arms crossed and this big mean scowl on her face. She actually called me a whiny jerk, can you believe that?"

"I think she got that one from ye'r brother. I told them not to say that word," Rory giggled.

"Yup, she called me a whiny jerk and said I hurt your feelings and owed you an apology. She told me you cried and everything," Sam went on.

"I did not cry!" Rory argued. "I had dust in me eyes!"

Sam pretended to sneeze as he said "bullshit" under his breath. He then smiled and pulled him into another tight hug. "She's right though. I was a whiny jerk. I'll make it up to you."

"Ye' don't have to do anything, Sammy. An apology was enough. And coming out here with me. I really like that, getting to do something together away from the house," Rory told him. "Next time we need to bring some bread to give to the ducks. They're so cute."

"Hey, look, right there!" Sam exclaimed, pointing down into the water. "A turtle! A big one! See!"

Rory leaned over to look, finally seeing the large reptile. It had its head sticking up out of the water, shuffling it's tiny legs to swim. It looked like it was trying to get closer to the ducks.

"I guess he got jealous when I said the ducks were cute," Rory noted. "Hey, Mr. Turtle, ye'r cute too," he called down to the turtle. "Hmm, I wonder if he eats bread too. I'm not sure what turtles like."

"Me either. Leaves and stuff probably. Maybe lettuce. I'll look it up when we get home so we can bring him some food too next time."

Rory anxiously started tapping him on the shoulder and pointing at the sky. "Look! Sammy look! It's a big bird! Like a hawk or something!"

Soaring high up in the air was not a hawk, but a beautiful bald eagle. It had a huge wingspan, and it looked like an airplane, floating through the sky with little effort.

"It's so beautiful!" Rory said, pulling out his cell phone. He looked up and snapped a picture. "Excellent. I'll send that to me mam. She loves birds." They watched the eagle soar overhead before it disappeared into the trees.

"You know, when you see an eagle like that, you're supposed to kiss someone. Like mistletoe at Christmas," Sam stated slyly. He pulled Rory close and pressed his lips against the younger man's unexpectedly. When Rory pulled back in surprise, he grinned. "You said I wasn't contagious anymore."

Rory didn't say anything but just went back to watching the wildlife. After a few minutes he finally asked if Sam's tradition was true. Sam laughed and shook his head. "No. I mean, they say it's good luck if you see a bald eagle since they're endangered or something. I just thought it made a good excuse to kiss you."

"Clever boyo," Rory said with a smile.

"Hey Ror? Can I have some ice cream?" Sam asked, making his voice sound like a little kid's.

"Why yes, Samuel, ye' may. But just a little bit, I don't want ye' to spoil ye'r dinner," Rory replied in a semi-serious tone. Sam clapped his hands and cheered the same way Stacy did when she got good news.

"On the other side of the trail there's a strip mall across the street. There's an ice cream shop there," Sam told him.

"A strip mall? I don't think I'm old enough to get in there, though." Rory's eyes went wide as he considered they may be walking into a place filled with naked people.

Sam looked baffled for a moment before he realized that Rory thought he meant a mall full of strippers. He couldn't help but burst into laughter. "No, doofus! A strip mall! It's what you call it when there's just a row of stores sitting out on their own."

A look of realization crossed the boy's face. "Oh, that makes sense. Like a strip o' paper." They walked the rest of the way down the trail before it popped out into a sidewalk, the strip mall across the street.

"My treat, for my excellent nurse," Sam stated before they went in. Rory reminded him not to pig out since dinner wasn't too far away, so he got a vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry swirled cone with sprinkles on it, while Rory opted for a waffle cone with vanilla ice cream, drizzled with chocolate and strawberries.

"I thought you said no pigging out," Sam pointed out.

"No, I said ye' couldn't pig out. I didn't say I couldn't," Rory grinned. "Here, try this, it's really good." He put a spoonful of it in Sam's mouth, causing the older teen to whimper in delight at the wonderful taste of chocolate and fresh strawberries.

They walked home through the trail and the park again, eating their ice cream and observing the animals again. They stopped on the bridge to find the ducks had gone, but the turtle was still hanging about. Rory broke off a small piece of his cone and dropped it down in front of the turtle. It looked interested at first, took a nibble, and then seemed disinterested after that.

"I guess turtles aren't fans of waffle cones," the boy noted. "Maybe next time I'll have something better for ye'."

By the time they got home, all evidence of their afternoon snack was gone. "You know, Ror, we don't do this nearly enough."

Rory cocked his head. "Do what? Go to the park? Get ice cream?"

Sam laughed. "No, silly. I mean go out and do stuff together. I mean, we play video games, and go to glee club, and watch movies, but everything we do is in the house or at school. We should go out more, even if it's something simple, like this."

"Well what do ye' want to do?"

Sam looked thoughtful. "I... I dunno. When it gets a little warmer, let's go to King's Island. It's this huge amusement park with lots of roller coasters, and rides, and stuff. And maybe we can go boating, like canoeing or something in the lake. Stuff like that!"

"That does sound fun. I liked when we went ice skating," Rory mentioned.

"Not cold enough for that now. But... maybe we can go bike riding! Or get roller skates. We'll think of stuff. I just want to do some special things with you, stuff that isn't us just staying home. I mean, I love our time together, I just want you to have things to remember from your stay in America."

Rory smiled. "I have plenty to remember from here. And plenty to see when I come back. I like ye'r idea though. We should make a list of things we want to do and then do them. Like a bucket list, but sooner."

When they finally got home, Stacy gave Sam a mean look when they walked in. "Hey, I made nice!" he told her. Rory smiled and nodded to her, alerting her that he did indeed carry out his apology. She changed her frown to a huge grin before running up to both of them and giving them hugs before going back to watching TV with her brother.

"Do I get real food tonight?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I suppose ye' can. Ye' 'ave to go to bed by eleven though. It's a big day tomorrow!"

"It sure is. My awesome boyfriend is going to kick some major butt in the swim meet. Did you know he made it to intermediate class and is gonna be in three events?"

Rory played along with him. "No, really? He must be really talented."

"He is," Sam said with a goofy grin. "Talented and a lot of other things he should already know."

Rory smiled, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and dismissed himself to get the kids ready for dinner. Tomorrow was indeed going to be a very big day.

 


	19. Episode 19: Into the Swing of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: This chapter deals with a couple of controversial issues, particularly religion. My Catholic knowledge is rusty, but I tried to keep it close to legit. It's not meant to offend anyone but rather is an attempt at showing Rory's struggles with his sexuality and religion. It's not perfect, but bear with me._ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality (Best Sory beta ever!)

**Recap:**  Rory finally got a chance to let Sebastian know he wasn't one to be screwed with, and a temporary truce was called. Sam got really sick and Rory had to take care of him, a total swap of roles for once! Sam got schooled by his little sister when he snapped at Rory, but now everything's okayand that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 19: Into the Swing of Things**

Rory woke up bright and early Sunday morning. He'd been looking forward to today ever since Coach Roz told him he would be competing. He smiled and rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Sam, before heading toward the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen.

"Good morning honey," Mrs. Evans greeted him. "I have a nice big breakfast for our star swim champion to be. Gotta start the day out right!"

Rory blushed at her enthusiasm. "Ye' give me too much credit," he said sheepishly. She waved it off and set about fixing him a plate.

"Sit down. Here, have some orange juice," she said, setting a glass down in front of him. The amount of food she stuck on his plate was gluttonous. Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, and hash browns.

"My god mother, you're gonna make him get stomach cramps before he even gets in the water!" Sam teased, coming into the room. Rory looked up from his plate, his fork halfway to his mouth. Even though he had bed hair, Sam still was gorgeous and alluring to watch.

"Nice to see you're feeling better," she replied. "The meet isn't until one. Plenty of time for that tummy to settle. He needs a good breakfast to give him energy."

Rory made a face of disapproval as he watched Sam putting a heaping amount of food on his platter. "Hey hey, I didn't clear ye' for all that now," Rory stated, teasing the recovering boy. "Maybe some dry biscuits for ye'. And some water."

"Very funny. I need my energy too. It takes a lot of effort to do all that cheering you know," Sam replied smugly. He finished loading up his plate and sat down, gobbling up his food as though he were starving.

"Slow down, Samuel, you'll give yourself a belly ache, and then I'll have to laugh at you," his father reprimanded.

"Dad, I've been without real food for almost a week. This is like eating gold," Sam argued, shoveling eggs in his mouth.

Mr. Evans laughed and then looked at Rory. "That's your boy over there. Quite a catch with those eggs falling out of his mouth and gravy on his chin." Sam shot his father a glare and rolled his eyes.

"He's a catch when his mouth isn't full," Rory added, a smile beginning to pull up the corners of his mouth. He gestured toward Sam's father with his fork. "Hmm. Catch. Trout. Trouty mouth. I see what ye' did there. Good one, sir."

Mr. Evans smiled but was totally lost. Neither he nor his wife had been privy to the tale of trouty mouth, or its origin. He assumed it was another Irish expression and just went along with it.

"Does your coach think you might make it into the top class this time? If you win this meet, I mean?" Mrs. Evans asked, sitting down in front of her own plate of food.

"I don't know, actually. I'll just have to see. I didn't think to ask Coach Roz."

"Don't bother asking her, she won't understand you," Sam stated. He looked around at the horrified stares. "No, really. Coach Roz still doesn't understand him with his accent. It's kind of funny. He'll say something and then she says she can't understand him, start talking, and then tell him to nod if he understands.

"It isn't that hard to understand you, dear," Sam's mom said, patting Rory's hand. "We just have to pay attention. Maybe she needs to give that a try."

Rory giggled. "She pays attention. She just doesn't understand me, that's all. She's very inspirational. I like her. I have no idea why she has given me a chance when I couldn't swim a stroke at first, or why she pushes me so hard, but there has to be some reason for it."

"She came from a broken home in the ghetto," Sam said. Again the horrified looks. "No, really. I heard her talking about it with Coach Beiste. She grew up in the ghetto and never learned how to swim. She got teased a lot and almost drowned when someone pushed her in a pool. After that she was determined to overcome that and make something of herself. I guess she looked at Rory and saw him struggling, and wanted to do for him what nobody else did for her, what she had to do on her own."

"You sure know a lot about her. Especially not to have her as a Coach," his dad noted.

Sam shrugged. "McKinley is the gossip capital of the country. When I overheard her and Beiste talking, I kinda couldn't help but listen. Rory's right, she is inspirational. I also heard she told off Coach Sylvester, which scores her major cool points in my book."

"I never did like her. She's so rude," his mom said. "Oh well, I'm glad you boys find your coach so inspirational. It encourages good habits and positive thinking."

Sam returned to cramming his mouth with food, almost to the point of being gross about it. "Sammy, chew and swallow first, then get more. It's not going anywhere!" Rory reprimanded.

The older teen started to say something suggestive at the use of the word 'swallow,' but opted to just gulp his orange juice instead, only for the sake of not embarrassing his boyfriend in front of his parents.

-ooo-

The swim meet was held once again at the McKinley 'Aquatorium.' To Rory, it looked like the bleachers were packed twice as full as before, but it might have just been nerves. He waved to Sam in the third row from the top, and to Rachel, Finn, Blaine, Kurt, Mike, and Tina who were sitting with him. His family was further down in the front. He scanned the crowd but didn't see any of the teachers.

"Ready for this one, Flanagan? Just nod," Coach Roz said, approaching him, clutching her clipboard under her arm. Rory nodded, used to finding ways to answer her queries with shrugs, nods, or head shakes. In a way, it was funny the way they had formed their own method of communication, even if the only hurdle was her listening through his accent.

"Amateur class goes first, then intermediate. After all three classes are finished, there's a special event for the entirety of the teams. Can't tell ya what it is though," she noted. Rory nodded again, listening to the announcer as he praised the two schools for their talents.

Sam had attempted to look around the bleachers, but his view was unclear. He tapped Kurt on the shoulder. "You don't see 'you-know-who' in here anywhere, do you?"

Kurt craned his neck, looking for the catty Warbler. "No. I don't see him. That's probably best, because I really can't see you wearing orange." Sam looked confused, but Blaine laughed quietly at his boyfriend's attempt at humor, reaching out to take his hand.

Kurt scoffed at Sam, and explained he was referring to the idea that Sam might drown Sebastian in the pool should he see him. Sam finally got the joke and laughed politely. He felt a little more at ease now that he was satisfied that the demon wasn't haunting their school. He relaxed and watched the start of the meet, excitement beginning to creep in as he saw the ambitious smile stretch across Rory's face.

McKinley took second place in the amateur event, something that Sam couldn't help but take pride in. Rory had gotten first place because he was a better swimmer, and the fact that the new amateur slacked behind just showed how hard his boyfriend had worked to get up to par.

"And now we have the intermediate class events. There are three events for this session. Laps, backstroke, and relay. First, we begin with laps. Swimmers have one minute to get on their mark," the announcer bellowed.

Rory stepped up onto the small platform at the edge of the pool, forcing himself not to look over at his competitors. He knew if he so much as glanced at them, even just getting ready, his nerves would crack.

The whistle blew and all eight students jettisoned off of their platforms and into the water with lightning speed. The room filled with noise as they splashed forward, the crowd cheering and yelling for their favorites.

The race was over before he knew it. If his shoulder hurt, he didn't notice. At this point it only seemed to bother him if he thought about it too much, and thankfully he had learned to block it out and focus only on his goal, not on the ache.

Rory heard his name over the loudspeaker. First place.  _Good. I'll need that to make up for the backstroke. That's my weak point._

The backstroke event went just as fast, and as he predicted Rory came in second but only by a close margin. If it hadn't been for a sudden burst of speed at the last second, he would have made third.

The swimmers were granted a five-minute break before moving on to the relay. The relay was one of the most favored events since it was a little more fun than just going back and forth at top speed.

"The final intermediate event is the relay. Teams of two will swap partners as they retrieve dive sticks at varied intervals. There are four markers, each farther away than the one before it. Our swimmers may only swap out when they hand their stick to their partner and their partner places it in the bucket," the announcer informed the audience.

Rory was paired off with a student named Vinny. Vinny was tall and lanky and every bit the look of a stereotypical nerd. He was part of just about every overachieving school group possible including the Student Council and Future Business Leaders of America. Just looking at his posture it was obvious he took life entirely too seriously. The good news, however, was the fact that Vinny was an excellent swimmer and had incredible speed.

For the relay event, two pairs at a time went, with Rory and Vinny in the second heat. He relaxed himself by remembering that it was no different than when he played the relay with the kids and Mr. Evans at home.

"No mistakes, Flanagan. You know I expect to win," Vinny stated flatly, his facial expression one of complete determination. Rory nodded to him, just as he did with Coach Roz. Vinny understood him, but he didn't care what Rory had to say as long as he won.

The whistle for the second heat sounded and once more the swimmers took to the water like dolphins. Vinny took the first and third laps, leaving the last lap - the most critical - for Rory to bring home. Bring it home he did, too. He was a full three seconds faster than his competitor and one and a half seconds faster than the other McKinley team who had secured the win is the first heat.

By the time the winners were announced, Vinny received first place (his backstroke was flawless, unlike Rory's, whose was slightly slower) while Rory received second.  _I can live with second place. Out of eight, that's really good._

The crowd cheered for him, but Sam's voice rang the loudest. He blushed a little at Sam's over-excitement, but was glad for the enthusiasm. He sat down on the bench and watched the advanced class races, resting up until the special event.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special event for our competitors today," the announcer began. "To celebrate the spirit of hard work, fairness, and fun, our team members will be taking part in an obstacle course. It's every man and woman for him or herself."

The crowd cheered once more, excited for the event to begin. "Today all of our competitors will receive a free meal pass for  _King's Island Water Park_  right here in Ohio! First place will receive two season passes to both the water park and amusement park! Second place will receive a single season pass to both parks, and third place a season pass to the water park!"

At the mention of free season passes, the crowd roared louder than it had the entire afternoon. Apparently free stuff was more exciting than trophies of achievement. The twenty student swimmers were sent to the locker rooms and an intermission was called while the course was set up.

Rory was already planning in his head how he wanted to use the passes he intended to win. If he got two passes, Sam was getting the other one, while he would just give Sam either of the single passes and pay for his own. Worst case scenario for Sam was he would have to pay for half a pass if Rory only won the one park pass.

After about twenty minutes, the swimmers were called back out to the Aquatorium. The Olympic sized swimming pool had indeed been set up in an obstacle course. There were several small floating pads underneath a plastic rope, sunken hoops to swim through, more dive sticks, numerous ropes through which to navigate, rope ladders hanging from the ceiling hovering over the water, and portable basketball hoops at one end.

"Each competitor will traverse the course in this order: They will take a dive off of the diving board into the water, then navigate through three hoops at different depths. When they come up, they will climb up on the pads, using the rope above for balance. When they get to the end, they will climb the ladder and descend on the opposite side, dropping back into water. They must then navigate the sunken ropes, collect the dive sticks and deposit them into the bucket to receive a basketball which they must then make into the basket to secure their finish."

"Holy crap, they're gonna do all that in one run?" Sam said to his friends. "That's insane."

"Oh he can do it. He made it this far, this should be easy," Tina corrected him, grinning. "I bet you couldn't do it."

Sam scoffed at her. "I bet I could!"

"Well be quiet and watch, they're about to start," Blaine scolded.

Down at the pool zone, the competitors were filing in lines, getting ready for their turns. The third person up for the McKinley team was Vinny, and when it came to be his chance, the only part he seemed to pull off was the dive in, and picking up the sticks. He fell off the lily pads twice and almost lost his grip on the rope ladder. Rory had to hold back laughter as the cocky boy failed at the unusual tasks.

Rory finally got his turn, the diving board being the only thing that made him nervous. He never jumped from that high before, but when he thought about the prizes, down he went. He eased through the hoops, zoomed across the pads and up the ladder, squirmed through the ropes, grabbed the sticks, and surprisingly enough, made the basket in one shot. The ball games he had been playing with the kids in the pool paid off.

There were still five more people to go after him, so he sat on the bench again and watched. Actually going through the course wasn't too difficult, but watching everyone else as they splashed, bounced, fell, and missed baskets was almost painful.

The entire obstacle course event took close to an hour, but the audience was enjoying it immensely. It was a very clever idea that added a whole new realm of fun to the very competitive sport.

"The winners for this event are based completely on time," the announcer explained as they waited for the tallies. The first place winner was a kid from the other school, a tiny guy who had been quick as a fish in the water and part of the advanced class.

_Okay, so first place is out... Maybe second, come on second, come on come on come on..._

All he heard was his name being called over the loudspeaker. He didn't hear his time being called or even the instructions to go up and get his prize. It was Coach Roz who snapped him to reality and told him to go up and claim his pass. Third place was another student he didn't know from the other school, but at that point it didn't matter.

The announcer gave some notices about upcoming events before finally dismissing the teams to greet their friends and families. "Hey Flanagan!" Sam and the others called out to him, hanging off of the bleachers right above the locker room door. It startled him, but as soon as he realized who it was he got a big grin on his face.

"Congratulations!" Mike said, clapping him on the back.

"Way to go, dude. You did awesome!" Finn added, giving him two thumbs up.

"You're as magical in the water as you are on land," Rachel complimented. "If you learn to sing underwater, you might have me beat."

Rory was beaming, his smile never faltering. He looked at Sam with his sparkling blue eyes and saw him grinning with such pride that it actually warmed him up. It was cold in the Aquatorium, and he was still in speedo.

"Anyone wanna hit up BreadstiX?" Finn asked hopefully. The glee club may as well take out stock in the place since it accounted for at least two thirds of their meals out.

Sam shook his head. "I can't, I have the evening shift at the shop, and I already missed a week of work. I need the cash."

"We would but we're going to dinner with my parents," Blaine explained, counting out Kurt and himself. Rory turned to Tina and Mike, but they too had evening commitments. He looked disappointed until Finn suggested that just the three of them go.

"I'll drop you back home, dude. We haven't got to hang out much anyway," Finn offered. Rory's face brightened back up.

"That'd be great!" he exclaimed. "I need to shower though. Do I 'ave time?" the young teen asked.

"Of course. There's no rush. Finn and I can go to the choir room while we wait. Any extra practice time is well accepted," Rachel replied. The rest of them exchanged goodbyes and went their separate ways.

"See you when I get home tonight. I'm really proud of you," Sam told him. He kissed him on top of his head. "Have a good time with Finchel."

Rory screwed up his face. "Who?"

"Finchel. It's what we call Rachel and Finn. Remember, I told you about the funny names, didn't I? Samtana, Samcedes, Brittana, Tike, Bartie, Puckleberry? Ring any bells?"

Rory looked at him blankly. "Okay, so... what are we?"

Sam thought a moment, not quite sure what to suggest.

"Sory!" Rachel offered up.

"No, no, I like Flanevans," Finn suggested next.

"I like both," Rory admitted. "Do we 'ave to use just one?"

Finn shrugged. "Just go with whichever catches on first." Rory nodded skeptically.

"Bye Sammy!" he said, heading off to the locker room while 'Finchel' retreated to the choir room until he was ready to go.

-ooo-

Nobody else was in the locker room when Rory went to take his shower. The hot water was soothing to his body, the aches finally settling in. His body hurt, but he took pride in the pain coming from working hard, and not an injury.

Soaping up his hair, he heard the door shut and the shuffle of feet. "Hello?" he called. No answer. Probably just the janitor coming in to clean up. He went back to soaping his hair when he heard more shuffling of feet.

The next thing he knew, he felt hands on his biceps, trailing down to his forearms. He jerked away, his eyes still closed to keep the soap out. He quickly ducked his head in the spray and was able to open his eyes again. The lights were out and he hadn't even realized it from lack of sight before.

He started to panic, demanding to know who was there, who was touching him. He couldn't see at all, there were no windows in the locker room. The body in front of him suddenly pulled him into a tight hug, and it was then that he could smell the faint scent of his cologne before it washed away.

"Shhh, calm down baby. It's just me," Sam cooed in his ear.

"What are ye' doing here? I thought ye' had to work."

"I do. But not for another hour. I thought I'd surprise you," Sam informed him, grinning in the dark.

Rory backed up against him, his back resting against Sam's chest. He felt the strong hands of his boyfriend rubbing his arms, then his chest, and moving further down.

"Sam, we can't do  _that_  in here, what if someone comes in?" the teen protested.

"We aren't doing anything. I just want to massage your muscles. I know they ache," Sam whispered. He started to work his fingers around Rory's hips and down to his rear, kneading the tight globes. He worked his way back up front to massage his thighs, but carefully avoiding his crotch.

Rory could feel Sam's arousal growing behind him, but not once did the older teen try to be sexual with him. He really did only want to give him a massage in the hot water, working his hands until he was back to his shoulders, then his sides and back. If someone did come in, they would never believe they were doing something as innocent as a massage.

"How'd that feel?" Sam asked him, pulling him close again.

"Great. I feel a lot better," Rory admitted. By then they were both aroused. "Do ye' want to...?"

Sam chuckled. "No, not right now. I need to get going, and you don't want to keep Finn and Rachel waiting. We can fool around tonight if you're in the mood. I just wanted to come give you a nice surprise."

Rory smiled, although Sam couldn't see it. Sam reached over and flipped the light back on, their eyes having to adjust to the sudden brightness. Sam grabbed a towel and wrapped it around the boy, hugging him again and nuzzling his chin on Rory's head.

"You just don't know, how really very proud of you I am," Sam said softly. "You've overcome so much since you got here and you keep on going strong."

"I couldn't do it without ye' though. I have something to admit," Rory said, sitting down on the bench, the towel still wrapped around him. "I had actually been thinkin' about going home before I met ye'. There's any number of lies I could have told to leave here."

Sam grinned, becoming playfully smug. "But then you met me and your life was suddenly complete."

Rory returned his happy sentiment. "Yes. Then I met ye' and things got better. They got better for both of us. But just think, if I had gotten on the plane to go back to Ireland, I would still be alone, by meself, sad."

"Well, I for one am thrilled you didn't go home. I'd probably be alone and sad too."

They turned to face each other and smiled, then kissed. Sam gave him a playful tickle on the belly and then excused himself to get going to work. Rory kept the happy grin on his face the entire way to the choir room.

-ooo-

Finn and Rachel were in the middle of singing a song that Rory wasn't familiar with when he entered the choir room. It was pretty; a duet of some sort. When they were finished, he clapped enthusiastically.

"Oh grand, I love to have an audience," Rachel cooed. "Especially when it's someone who can appreciate good talent."

Finn nervously scratched his head. "Uh so, you ready to go? You're cool with BreadstiX right? I mean there wasn't anywhere else you wanted to go was there?"

"No, BreadstiX is fine. They 'ave a good variety. I might try that cheeseburger that looks like a heart attack on a bun," Rory said, salivating.

"Dude, don't have heart failure. I like my life, I really don't want Sam to kill me," Finn said, dead serious. "I have to return you home in one piece."

Rachel giggled at his fear. "I'll drive. Finn, I love you but you make me nervous behind the wheel."

Finn and Rory rode in silence as Rachel went on about her next musical endeavor – the next stage of her application to NYADA. It was good to see her so excited about something since her senior year had started so badly.

When the hostess seated them, they noticed Santana and Brittany sitting on the other side of the restaurant, locked in deep conversation. The trio waved to them, Brittany returning with a genuine smile and enthusiastic wave of her own, while Santana just gave a half-hearted nod of her head.

"Why does Santana hate me?" Rory asked after they sat down. "I didn't do anything to her."

"Well," Finn began, "You kind of tried to trick Brittany into sleeping with you, and when it comes to Britt, Santana is incredibly defensive. When she sets her eyes on hating someone, it's pretty much for life."

Rory looked down at the table. "I didn't mean to trick her. I… I was confused. I thought I liked her. I guess I wanted to like her. I wanted to be like everyone else, make friends. I knew I couldn't do that if it got out that I was… ye' know."

Rachel put her hand on his. "It's okay. You don't have to hide anymore. Azimio and his group of jerks were the only ones who really cared, and he's where he belongs now. You see how Kurt and Blaine are. They don't hide their love. They show it with pride. I think it's amazing how far you and Sam have come in such a short time."

"Thanks, Rachel. That makes me feel a lot better, especially coming from ye'." When he looked back up at her she almost looked hurt, so he clarified what he meant. "I just meant because for a while, I thought ye' didn't like me either, the way ye' were so against our relationship."

Rachel was actually embarrassed of herself. "Like I said before, it was the age difference that seemed to bother me. But… it's more important that you both are happy. I realized that you're consenting adults, even if you aren't eighteen yet."

"That's pretty mature of ye' to admit being wrong. I admire that. Actually, I think a lot of people don't give ye' enough credit. They just see the talkative Rachel who has only two things on her mind: Finn, and becoming a star. They don't see that there is so much more. I'm glad I gave ye' another chance."

"That is so sweet of you, Rory," Rachel cooed. "That means a lot."

"That really is cool of you, dude. I respect your honesty. More importantly, I'm hungry," Finn added. He summoned the waitress so they could place their orders and get on with their meal. They discussed all kinds of things over dinner. Of course NYADA, Rachel and Finn's plans for New York and college. Rory listened intently as he heard the history of Finchel and the rocky roads they crossed to get where they currently were.

Finn asked a lot of questions about Ireland. To him, it was a mystical place filled with some sort of magic, but in reality it wasn't much different from the USA. Rory told them about famous landmarks, how their schooling worked, their government. He told them as much as they wanted to know as long as they didn't ask about what he planned to do when it came time to go back home. He wasn't ready to divulge the results of his conversation with Sam regarding that very topic.

-ooo-

After dinner, the trio went to the mall for a little while. Rory hadn't been there since his birthday, and everything was still decorated in green. Four leaf clovers littered the windows of stores and streamers dangled from the ceiling.

"This should make you feel right at home, huh?" Finn joked, pointing to the decorations.

"Clovers and green really aren't as big of a deal in Ireland as people think. I do kind of uh, well..." Rory pulled out his wallet and took something out of it. He presented his friend with plastic covered card, a single clover under the seal.

"What's this?" Finn inquired, flipping the card over to see if there was anything on the other side.

Rory smiled as he recalled a memory from home. "Me brother Seamus gave it to me when he was wee. He was out in the yard playin', and he found the four leaf clover and crawled all the way to the porch and refused to give it to anyone except me. He handed it over and said my name for the first time."

"And you've kept it ever since?" Rachel asked. He nodded with a sheepish grin. "That's adorable. He gave it to you and you kept it all this time. You must really love your brother."

"I do," Rory nodded again. "We fight now and then like all brothers do, but he's great. Not the best in school, but he's a great sportsman. Can't sing for a hill o' beans though."

Finn nodded. "That's real cool. My brother is already grown up. He's gay, and a real swell dude."

Rory looked confused. "He means Kurt," Rachel explained for him. "Their friendship has changed a lot over the years. It'd be like if you and Azimio became friends."

"Whoa, hold on Rach. I was never anywhere as mean to Kurt as Azimio was to Rory," Finn defended.

Rachel shrugged. "Okay, maybe not, but you get the point."

Rachel went into the nearest clothing store and then Bath & Body Works while the boys ventured to the electronics store. Rory wanted to find a nice case for the iPod Touch Sam gave him for his birthday and Finn wanted to check out the CD racks.

They met back up with Rachel, and as she was showing off her purchases, she noticed Rory had a very strange look on his face. "Rory? Are you all right? You look sick."

Rory started to pant and sweat. He felt his face growing hot and his legs felt weak. "Can we go now? Please?" he said quickly.

"Wait, what's up? What's wrong?" Finn asked, looking at him the way someone would if they saw an alien.

"Please can we go now?" Rory asked again, his voice trembling.

His friends looked confused. "Sure. Sure, let's get going," Rachel agreed.

"Yeah, we can go. But I want an explanation when we get to the car, because something is totally not cool with you right now," Finn stated. They started to walk in one direction but Rory grabbed both of their arms.

"No, not that way. Another way," the panicky boy insisted, urging them toward the left side of an intersection.

"Rory, you're scaring me. What's going on?" Rachel argued. "You look like you're going to be sick, and you're acting crazy."

Finn took her hand and pulled her along, following the paling boy. His color was fading with every step. "Come on, let's just get to the car and then we can ask questions."

They hurried out the door and made the trip across the parking lot. The side door they exited was the next lot over, so they had a ways to walk. Rory kept looking around nervously as if he had just stolen something.

As soon as they reached the truck, Rachel started asking questions again. "Okay, we're out here now. Nobody's around. What's going on, Rory?" she demanded.

His eyes darting around crazily, he realized that indeed they were alone and his breathing returned to normal, as did his color. "I saw... I saw them," he stammered.

"Saw who?" Finn questioned. "The Irish Mafia?"

"Oh my God, there's an Irish mafia?" Rachel exclaimed, looking around the same way her young friend had moments earlier.

"No. There's no Irish Mafia. I saw... I saw the other guys. The ones who were with Azimio the day..."

Rachel and Finn's eyes widened freakishly. "You mean they got out of jail?" Finn asked.

"They were never in jail. They weren't caught. Azimio wouldn't tattle on them."

"How do you know it was really them? I mean, your memory of that whole thing is a little messed up, isn't it?" Rachel pointed out, still making sure to keep her eyes moving to spot the Mafia.

"I remember their faces. That isn't the kind of thing ye' forget. Like... like a nightmare. I promise, it was them," Rory verified, wiping the sweat off of his face. "Please, please let's  _go_."

Rachel agreed, still convinced that someone was suddenly out to get them. The three of them got in the truck and started to drive off toward the Evans' home. Rachel tried to comfort the fretting boy by holding and stroking the top of his hand.

When they arrived to Sam's home, his car wasn't there. He was still at work until ten, which was pretty late considering they had class the next day.

"I'll walk you in," Finn offered. Rory wanted to protest at first but then decided not to. Rachel followed them, not wanting to be left alone in case the Irish Mafia was tailing them.

"Hey there, Finn, Rachel. Good to see you two again," Mr. Evans greeted when they came through the living room. He took one look at Rory, however, and could tell something was wrong. Rachel ushered him into the bathroom, turned on the sink to mask the noise, and shut the door so the teen could vomit in peace.

"What did ya'll do to him? You know Sam's gonna kill you both where you stand, right?" Mr. Evans joked. His grin fell when he saw that neither Finn nor Rachel were laughing.

"Mr. Evans, while we were at the mall, Rory saw the two guys who were with Azimio the day they assaulted him," Finn announced, trying to sound as serious and mature as possible.

Mr. Evans' face went grim. "Did they...?"

"No, sir. Me and Rachel didn't even see them. Rory did, and we left right away," Finn replied.

"You should have seen him, Mr. Evans. He turned white as a ghost and started shaking and sweating. I thought he was getting sick," Rachel added, her own voice panicky.

Mr. Evans looked thoughtful, scratching his chin. "Well, there isn't really anything we can do. Without identification, it's almost impossible to track them down. What's he doing right now?"

"Throwing up," Rachel stated. "He got his color back, but I guess his stomach was still uneasy. I'll go check on him." She turned on her heel and went to the bathroom, knocking lightly. The water was turned off. He startled her when he came up behind her.

"Oh God I thought you were the Mafia!" Rachel exclaimed. "Phew. Are you alright now?"

Rory nodded slowly. "I think so. Nerves I guess."

"Maybe you should get some rest. Go to bed early."

The boy shook his head. "No, I wanna wait for Sam to come home. I won't be able to sleep without him here."

Rachel gave him a soft smile. "I understand. Maybe watch some TV until he gets here," she suggested.

"Hey, there. Feeling better?" Mr. Evans asked, joining them in the hallway, Finn behind him. Rory nodded his head and sighed. "You got some great friends to make sure you got home safe."

"Yes, sir. I do. They're wonderful," Rory agreed. "I think Rachel's right though. I need to go rest. Thank ye' both." They traded hugs, Mr. Evans thanked them, and they went on their way.

"What was that all about?" his wife asked, coming out of the laundry room with an armful of folded clothes.

Mr. Evans sighed as he explained to her what occurred at the mall, and how Rachel and Finn brought him home in a state of panic. Worried, her first inclination was to run into the bedroom and hug him tightly, offering him words of affection, however her husband requested that she wait, and allow them to speak man to man.

Mr. Evans knocked quietly on the door, but didn't hear a response. The man opened the door and stepped inside, noticing why there was no answer. Rory was in the middle of changing clothes and had his head wrapped up in his shirt.

"Here," Mr. Evans began, reaching over and lending a hand to untangle the boy from his tee shirt. "You need to calm down, Rory. You're home, you're safe."

"Y-yes sir," the teen replied, embarrassed that he had gotten stuck in his own shirt. He finally got himself sorted out, leaving the boy in a tee shirt and slightly damp boxers. "Sorry, I sweated too much," he explained. Mr. Evans politely turned his head while Rory put on a fresh pair, respecting his dignity despite having seen him nude in the pool once before.

"Have a seat, Rory," his host father instructed as he sat back in the desk chair. "We need to talk a minute."

A look of nervousness crossed Rory's soft features. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his voice starting to quiver.

"No no, not at all. But I want to talk about what happened tonight. Your friends said you suddenly had a panic attack because you saw the two guys who were with Azimio."

"Yes, sir. They were a ways down, but I know it was them. I have no doubt," Rory proclaimed. "I remember their faces. Ye' don't forget faces like theirs."

Mr. Evans nodded. "You've been through a hell of a lot since you got here," he said. "I've come to think of you kind of like a son, even though that's oddly incestuous since you and Sam, ah you know what I mean." Even when trying to be serious, Mr. Evans couldn't help but let his sense of humor shine through. Rory suddenly realized where Sam had gotten that particular trait.

"That wasn't them," he revealed. Rory was taken aback.

"Wh- wh-" he stuttered. "But I swear it was them! I swear it!"

"I promise you, it wasn't. I was informed a couple of weeks after the trial that Azimio finally ratted out his buddies. They're in a juvenile detention center. One of them was seventeen, the other was sixteen."

Rory felt light headed.  _I saw them! It was them! I swear it! I saw them and they were right down the hall and it was them! I'm not crazy!_

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" he asked.

"Because the entire incident was over. We didn't want to bring any of it up again. We wanted it to be behind you. If you had asked, we would have told you, but you never did," Mr. Evans replied. "I'm sorry if you feel like we deceived you, but I promise, that was not the idea."

Rory was in a daze. He was lost in his own head.  _If that wasn't them, then how did I see them? It couldn't be my imagination. Why would I imagine that? Why would I even think about it?_

"I don't understand!" Rory raised his voice in frustration. "How could I see them then? I'm not crazy, I know what I saw!" Realizing that he was talking louder than he should be, he lowered his eyes in embarrassment. He would never speak to his own father in such a loud tone.

"Calm  _down,_ " Mr. Evans said pointedly. "It's some sort of post-traumatic stress event. I don't know the technical jargon, but the idea is that after a traumatic event, you can sometimes see things, or hear things that aren't there."

Rory's bottom lip started to quiver. "But… I  _saw_  them," he insisted in a much quieter voice than before. "They were right there…"

"Think, Rory. Exactly where were they? What were they doing?"

Rory paused a moment, scanning his memory for details. "They were… They were down in front of another store."

"What were they doing?" Mr. Evans repeated.

"They were talking. To a girl. Yes, they were talking to a girl," the boy testified. His eyes were moving all over the place as if he were actually scanning something in front of him. "They were laughing and talking with her."

"What did they look like? What were they wearing?" Mr. Evans was playing this entire interrogation by ear – he had no actual plan except to make the boy focus and realize he hadn't seen who he thought he had seen.

Rory was quiet for a minute. "They were wearing… the same thing they wore that day. The same things."

"Rory? Do you really believe, that months after this incident, the one time you come across them, they have on the exact same outfits, both of them at the same time? Do you understand the odds of that happening are very slim?"

Rory was silent. He continued to stare down at his feet, his face feeling hot with embarrassment.

"Rory?"

"I suppose ye' may be right. But… if it wasn't them, who did I see?"

Mr. Evans shrugged. "I have no idea. They were probably a couple of random guys who looked similar to the boys who were there that day. They looked a little similar and your mind filled in the rest. It put the clothes on them, it forced their faces to match. It was all a trick of your mind."

A single tear ran down the boy's cheek as he realized just how right his host father was, and how foolish he had been to argue, especially after he had just been informed of their arrest and location.

Mr. Evans lifted Rory's chin with his finger. "Hey now, none of that. You've cried enough from that crap, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry," the boy said lightly, sniffling just a little.

"Come on, let me see that smile Sam's always going on about."

Rory couldn't help but let himself grin at the mention of Sam's name. "That's better. Now look, I wanna tell you something – some advice that I want you to really take to heart, okay?"

The young teen nodded in reply. "Yes, sir. I will."

"You can't let this incident ruin you for the rest of your life. It will haunt you every single day. Every young, light skinned black boy you see will become those two boys. Every big bulky dark skinned boy is gonna be Azimio. Every time you go in that gym, you'll see it happen again, and again, and again." He paused to give the words time to sink in.

The man lifted Rory's chin up again, forbidding him to look away. "This thing is going to run the rest of your life for you.  _If_  you let it." His voice was stern, yet caring. "This incident is over. Azimio is in jail. Those boys are in a home. You have friends and family looking out for you. You're working toward getting your life back together. Are you going to let all that  _crap_ stop you from moving forward, or are you gonna let it lock you down right here forever?"

Rory tried to think. The man was right – he couldn't let it effect him for the rest of his life. If he did, then Azimio and his thugs won. They didn't need to kill him to beat him. They just had to haunt him, scare him.

"Answer me, boy," Mr. Evans said sternly, the look on his face demanding the utmost respect and honesty.

"N-no sir."

"No, what?" Rory looked confused until the man clarified the question for him. "You answered 'no'. What are you saying 'no' to?"

Rory took in a deep breath, steeling himself. "No, sir, I won't let it stop me. I won't let it lock me in this  _place_."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. Say again," Mr. Evans urged, going with an idea he had seen on a TV show.

"I said no, sir! I won't let this shit stop me from going forward! I'm goin' to move on and put it behind me!" the teen shouted, his chest heaving. "I'm not gonna let it take me life away from me!"

Mr. Evans' mouth turned up into a grin. "I heard that, son. I heard that. Spoken like a true man. I'm proud of you. Sam would be, too. Stick with it, son. You're a lot tougher than you think. Look at all you made it through. You're gonna keep right on pushing through."

Rory smiled, pleased that he actually impressed his host father.  _He even called me a man. He said he was proud of me. I wonder if pap would be proud, too._

"Why don't you come in here and watch some TV with me?  _Family Guy_  is on a few minutes. American TV doesn't get much better," Mr. Evans said. He stood up to make his way back to the living room.

"Mr. Evans?" Rory called after him before the man even made it to the door.

"Yeah, son?"

"I'm sorry I swore. And for yelling."

Mr. Evans chuckled. "I think you get a 'Get out of jail free' card this time around." Surprisingly, Rory actually knew what he meant by that, having played Monopoly before. He started to leave again but stopped himself.

"Hey, Ror? What do you call your father?"

"Me father? I call him 'pap'. How come?" the teen replied.

Mr. Evans smiled. "Do me a favor then. Stop calling me Mr. Evans. Just call me 'dad.' I'm not your pap, but you still feel like a son to me."

Rory smiled wide, his eyes bright once again. "Yes, sir. I mean, yes, dad."

-ooo-

Sam came home around nine thirty to find his father and his boyfriend sitting next to each other on the couch, watching  _Family Guy._  There was always some sort of mini-marathon of something or other on Sundays.

"Hey, guys," Sam said, greeting them.

"Hi, Sammy," his boyfriend replied, smiling at him. Sam leaned down and gave him a quick peck. "Wanna watch some TV with us?"

"Give me a few minutes. I gotta get out of these clothes."

"Please do. You smell like a pizza parlor and it's killing the popcorn," his father added, wrinkling his nose and tossing a few kernels at him.

Sam caught the popcorn and popped it in his mouth, then headed for his bedroom to change. A few minutes later, he returned and plopped down on the couch with the other men of the household.

"So, what did you and Finchel end up doing?" Sam asked, snatching some more popcorn from the bowl and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Oh, nothing. Just some shopping after dinner." He and Mr. Evans exchanged grins, their conversation being their own little secret – a bond between the two of them.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Cool. Get anything?"

Rory answered him and then they spent the rest of the show in comfortable silence. After it was over, Sam announced their need to retire for the evening.

"Good night, boys. Sleep tight, sweet dreams, and all that other crap your mom says."

"Good night, dad," Sam and Rory both said in unison. Sam gave Rory a bewildered look, to which the teen just shrugged and smiled. He trotted off to the bedroom while Sam still looked confused.

"He just call you dad?" Sam verified with his father.

Mr. Evans grinned. "Yeah. Sure did, didn't he?"

Sam shook his head and laughed. "Did you give him some sort of pep talk or something while I was gone?"

His father shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Sam shook his head again and walked off, curiosity killing him to know what they had talked about, but knowing neither man would divulge the information to him.

-ooo-

"So how was the trip to the mall?" Sam asked, trying to spark up some conversation, hoping Rory would let him in on whatever his dad had been discussing with him.

Rory shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh it was fine. Here, I picked you up something," he said, tossing something toward him. Sam barely caught it in his arms, saving it from falling to the floor.

He held it up to see it was a CD. "You got me the soundtrack to  _Avatar_? I didn't even know they had one!" he exclaimed, beaming and tearing open the plastic sheathing.

"Well, it's the score. If it's ye'r favorite movie, ye' really should know these things," Rory playfully reprimanded, walking past Sam and smacking him on the rear. "I ought give ye' a sound whippin' for ye'r ignorance, boy!"

Sam laughed heartily. "I'd like to see you try. I'd out-muscle you any day, kid. Good luck getting me over  _your_  knee." Rory didn't say anything but instead tackled him in the side, catching him off-guard and knocking him onto the bed.

"Ye'r not so tough now, are ye'? Gonna let a little guy get the best of ye'?" Rory teased, tickling him. Sam weaseled his way from under the boy and and got on top of him, straddling the boy and pinning him down by the wrists.

"You can't overpower me. Good thing, too, because then I couldn't do this," Sam gloated, then leaned down to kiss his captive. As soon as their lips locked, the boy stopped struggling under his grip and instead began grinding his hips into Sam's crotch.

"Feels like you are enjoying this," Sam teased, grinding back. They started to kiss again, Rory's wrists still bound by Sam's strong hands.

There was a loud knock at the door and they heard Mr. Evans' voice. "Quiet down in there, your sister just fell asleep," he hissed. Sam collapsed on top of his boyfriend as they both erupted into laughter.

"Sorry! Going to bed now!" Sam replied through his giggles. They heard his father's footsteps disappear back down the hall. They finally got up, disrobed to their boxers, and crawled into bed.

The lights were out but they still managed to be able to see the glint in each other's eyes. "Thanks for the CD. That's really sweet." A few minutes passed, both of them silent, breathing slowly. Finally, Sam's curiosity got the better of him.

"Did you do anything else?" the blonde asked. Rory started to grin a little but then regained composure. "You sure?"

"I just thought I saw someone I knew, but it turned out I didn't," Rory replied smugly. Sam looked at him with confusion, but Rory simply rolled over and pretended to go to sleep. He didn't want to upset him – he knew that if he told Sam what happened at the mall, he would freak out on him and become upset and worried. All for nothing.

"Good night, Ror," Sam whispered into his ear. "Love you."

"I love ye' too, Sammy. E'erything's fine. I promise," the teen reassured him.

Rory was almost asleep when he felt Sam tickle him. "Whaaaat?" he whined, his accent making it sound all the funnier.

"Nothin'. Just making sure I haven't been dreaming."

"Dreaming what?"

"That I have the perfect boyfriend," Sam replied with a chuckle. "Sorry, I'm really tired. I get silly when I'm tired."

Rory smiled and rolled back over to face him, their eyes meeting again. "That's okay. I wanted to ask ye' something anyway. I just thought of it."

"I'm sorry baby, I'm way too tired for that. I'll never be able to keep it up," Sam apologized, thinking he meant something entirely different. Rory laughed at him.

"No, not that! I wanted to know if ye' would start going to mass with me on Sundays," he asked quietly.

Sam wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go. He wasn't particularly religious despite being a Christian. "I'm not Catholic, though."

"Ye' don't 'ave to be. I would just like it if ye' were there with me, listening to the message. Singing with me. I feel kind o' lonely in there by meself. E'erybody kind of shies away from me." Sam continued to be silent for a moment, thinking it over. "Ye' don't have to If ye' don't want to."

"No, no, I'll go with you. I can't have you being lonely. Not in church. Everyone should feel like they're with someone in church." Sam smiled and leaned his head forward, kissing the boy on the tip of his nose.

Rory sighed happily. "Thank ye, Sam. It means a lot that ye'll go." Sam smiled back and before either boy knew it, they were both fast asleep.

-ooo-

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been one month since me last confession," Rory stated, crossing himself. Locked in a small closet, a confessional, the only person to hear him, a priest on the other side.

Sam sat on the church pew, patiently waiting for his boyfriend to finish with his task. An elderly lady sat down beside him, and smiled. "I haven't seen you here before, young man."

"Oh, I'm… a friend asked me to come. He wanted me to hear the message from the priest," he explained, searching his mind for the right thing to say, not wanting to overstep a boundary or offend anyone.

"I welcome you then, to our church. I hope you will stay with us," she said, taking his hand and smiling again. "My name is Leila."

Sam smiled back, slightly uncomfortable. He wasn't Catholic, and he didn't want to lie, especially in a church, but he didn't know what to say. "Sam. Nice to meet you."

Leila moved to get up, but he stopped her. "Can I ask you something? I'm  _really_  new, so I don't understand everything yet." He gulped, but she put him at easy with a friendly grin.

"Certainly, young man. I would be happy to help you," she answered.

"What uh… what's he doing in there, exactly?" Sam asked, stumbling over his words, choosing them carefully.

"That is the confessional. We go in there to confess our sins to the priest, and he bestows forgiveness and gives us deeds to repent," the old lady told him. "Have you never confessed your sins before?"

Sam shook his head. This was starting to go into territory he  _really_  didn't want to go in, but he had asked, and now the can of worms was opened. "N-no. I guess not. Do I have to?"

Leila smiled. "I advise it. It's good for your soul. Absolves you of your sins to beg for forgiveness." Sam stared at her, unsure of where to go from there. Suddenly he found himself praying – not to be absolved, but to just find a way out of there. He was feeling like the church was caving in on him.

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll keep that in mind. I suppose I should wait for my friend and maybe next time I'll be ready," he said, hoping that would appease the old woman.

"My pleasure. I hope to see you again," she said, hobbling off.

Inside the confessional booth, Rory had a hard time getting started. He had never been very good at confession.  _How do I know I sinned?_  He would ask his mother. She often told him he would feel it in his heart. That's what made it all so confusing.

"My son, I must ask, do you still lay with a man?" the priest inquired, remembering his conversation during the previous confession where Rory admitted to being gay for the first time to a religious figure.

"I… yes father, I do. Every night, I lay beside him in love," Rory answered nervously.

The priest was quiet a moment, obviously thinking his words through. "It is a sin, an abomination, my son. Do you understand this?"

Rory nodded his head, then remembered the man in the next cabinet couldn't see him nod. "That's what confuses me, sir. Me mam once told me, ye' only sin if ye' feel in ye'r heart that ye' have sinned. But in me heart, I feel nothing but love."

"It is alright to love, Rory. We should love everyone. But you should not love a man the way you should love a woman. It is not as God intended. It is a sin," the older man stated. Rory started to wring his hands, sweating, his face getting hot.

"I don't understand, father. I love him. How is it wrong to love someone?" Rory pleaded understanding from the old man.

The priest scratched his chin before answering. "It is written in the Bible, that for a man to lay with another man is a sin, and that is the way. These are the Lord's words, and we must abide them."

"Yes, father," Rory said quietly.

"You know then, my son, what you must do. You must end this immediately. You must end this sinning and then beg for the Lord's forgiveness, and be thankful when it is bestowed upon you. But you will only be forgiven when you have broken from the sin," the priest explained.

Rory started to hyperventilate. He wished he had thought of something, anything, to have confessed and not given the priest a chance to ask him this question. Instead, he had remained mum and his fear came to light.

"Father, I love him. I love the Lord, too. I think… if the Lord didn't want me to love this man, he wouldn't have put him here for me. I can't end this, it doesn't feel right, it feels… it doesn't feel like the Lord's love," Rory finally said, gulping.

The priest was silent for several minutes. He hadn't dismissed the boy yet, so he was to stay put, but the waiting was painful.

"You understand, Rory, that if you knowingly choose to live in sin in this manner, that you can be excommunicated from the church?" Rory didn't answer. The thought had never crossed his mind, but posed with the choice now, unexpectedly, he didn't know how to respond. "Rory? My son?"

"I need to pray about this, father. I… I need to pray and ask the Lord for guidance. I don't want to be excommunicated. But…" he trailed off. "I beg ye' to let me pray and trust in His answer."

"Pray, my son. Pray and seek guidance, patience, and love. I will not absolve you for this sin, but I will bestow forgiveness for your other offenses," the priest declared. Rory heaved a sigh of relief, and then went on to confess his other sins to the father.

Sam was beginning to get bored.  _How much longer is he gonna be in there? Did he have_ that _many sins to admit to?_ Finally, when he was about to nod off, the closet opened and Rory stepped out. He wouldn't look at Sam, but merely asked him to leave with him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Sam asked, following him out of the door. "Rory, I asked you a question. Answer me, please," he begged. They got in the car, silent.

Rory chewed his bottom lip, nervous. Finally, he answered him. "The father says if I don't stop being gay, that I can be excommunicated from the church. And… I would go to Hell for that."

It was all Sam could do to contain his composure. That was one thing he couldn't stand about church – always trying to make you feel bad for things. He believed in God, but he believed that God was in your heart, not in some building with a bunch of drama.

"So what, you're gonna go straight now?" Sam asked, holding back his sarcasm.

"No. I told him I needed to pray."

Sam sighed. "Pray for….?"

"Pray for guidance. Sam, I know this all sounds like a bunch of hocus pocus to ye', but to me and me family, it is important," Rory stated softly.

"It's not hocus pocus. I believe in God too, I just skip the middle man." He chuckled, attempting to break the tension. "Look, God made us in his image, according to the Bible, right? And he wants people to love each other, right? If you ask me, that should take precedence over some weird rule about laying with another man."

Rory smiled at him. "Ye' have so much smarts. It makes sense. I just wish I could make it make sense to me religion. It's important to me."

Sam threw an arm around him and held Rory's hand. "I know it is. And you're important to me. But I think, if God didn't want us to be in love, he would have stopped us by now. We already got through Azimio, and Sebastian. If you ask me, those were some pretty crazy tests of faith. In Him and in each other."

Rory looked up at him and smiled again. "This is true, Sammy. I think… I think instead I'm going to pray for acceptance. I think I already got my guidance, and I didn't have to ask for it."

Sam kissed him on the head and then ruffled his hair up. "I love you, so much. Anyone who thinks that's wrong, they're nuts. You can have your religion and your love. Have your cake and eat it too."

"Why would I have a cake and not eat it?" the Irish lad asked, confused yet again.

Sam just laughed. "Oh, Rory, Rory, Rory. You never cease to amaze me with how adorable you are. It's just an expression. It means you can have both things that you want, or something." He shrugged and grinned.

"I like that saying. It makes sense," the boy said.

"Come on, let's go. All the misguided lack of love around here is bringing you down. I'm taking you to lunch," Sam announced, still holding the boy's hand.

Rory gave him a half smile. "Ye' don't need to do that. We can go home and make a sandwich or somethin'."

Sam shook his head. "Nuh uh. I want to take my loving boyfriend to lunch because I love him and want to see him smiling. Deal with it," he stated sternly. He tried to maintain a look of utter seriousness, but they both ended up bursting into laughter.

"That's better. That beautiful smile," Sam observed. He leaned forward and kissed him, putting his hand on Rory's cheek and caressing the smooth skin. "No God would ever tell that smile that he was wrong for loving someone."

Rory smiled and closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer of gratitude – not only for giving him the strength he needed to stand up for the love he believed in, but also for giving him someone to share that love with.

Now if only he could manage to deal with the church itself and its view on homosexuality. For the time being, he decided he would skip confessions and merely attend service, sitting at the back to make a swift exit so the priest could not confront him about it. The father wasn't supposed to talk about things mentioned in confession outside of the box anyhow. That was the last time he asked Sam to go to mass with him.

-ooo-

The next Friday, Sam had to work, his parents went out to a dinner party with friends, and the kids went to a sleepover with one of their playmates, leaving Rory all alone. Blaine and Kurt were having a date, Tina and Mike were having dinner at Mike's with his parents, Brittany and Santana were most likely having hardcore lesbian sex, and Finn and Rachel were busy planning their wedding. Nope, there was nobody for him to hang out with.

Lonely and down in the dumps, he spent an hour swimming laps in the pool until he became too tired to swim any further. There was nothing on the TV to watch, and he had watched every DVD he owned at least twice already. Even video games provided no amusement as he had become so used to playing against Sam, that it didn't feel the same playing alone.

_I'm hungry. I should have eaten a bigger lunch. I don't feel like eating another sandwich either. Maybe I'll go that little strip we went to for ice cream. I thought I saw other places to eat there._

Deciding to go out for a while, he put on his jacket, checked to make sure he had his key to the house, and left. What he didn't check for was his cell phone. That particular item was sitting on the night stand, still on the charger.

The sun was already setting, casting a nice glow of twilight throughout the neighborhood. Rory locked the door behind him and set off down the sidewalk, looking up at the trees to see if he could spot any birds.

Before he knew it, he had arrived at the park, night having fully settled in. It looked so much different than in the daytime. No kids or families were around playing with dogs or on the swing sets. Nobody was throwing Frisbees or playing tag. It was still, the only thing moving was the leaves when the breeze picked up.

_It's so beautiful out here. So peaceful. Maybe on the way back I'll even play on the swings, just because I can._

Considering he had only been there once, he found the trail rather easily. Most people would be a little uneasy about walking through the woods at night, either from the possibility of being accosted, or strange animals coming out to play. Not Rory. He felt completely at ease.

One thing that was nice about Lima was its low crime rate. Nobody thought much about walking alone somewhere, or through the woods at night. Halfway down the trail, he paused on the bridge where the ducks and turtle had been. He looked down but the only thing he saw was little bubbles where fish were passing by.

"Hi there," he said playfully into the water "Where's ye'r friend, the turtle?" Of course the fish didn't answer him, but it was comforting to break the silence in the night air, just a little.

Rory spent the next ten minutes staring up at the stars in the sky, wondering if Sam was paying attention to the sky at all. It was a strange thing to contemplate – it wasn't like they were far apart or anything. He was just at work for a few hours, but here in the forest, without Sam, without his friends, he felt incredibly lonely.

As he told the fish goodbye and started to continue down the trail, he mentally kicked himself for feeling down in the dumps.  _I have everything right now. Why do I feel lonely? I have Sam. I have his family. I have friends. Maybe… maybe it's what the priest said._

Rory stared at the sky as he walked, glancing down only to tell where the trail was going.  _I don't get it. Everyone preaches so much about love and then they tell me it's wrong to love the person I love. On top of that they threaten to throw me out of the church if I don't stop. How is that fair?_

He wished he could talk to his mam and pap, but the time difference was putting them in the middle of the night, and even if he did talk to them, he wasn't sure what they would say. They wouldn't want him to get excommunicated either.

He had told the priest he was going to pray about it, and perhaps he should really do that. He stopped in the middle of the woods, and knelt down, keeping his knee hovering over the ground so not to get his pants dirty.

He must have prayed for at least ten solid minutes, going back and forth in his head trying to express his feelings, hoping for something, any kind of sign that would tell him what he felt was right.

Finally, he finished his prayer with something he hadn't thought he would say in a prayer.  _Lord, I love you, and I love the church. But I love Sam, too. Ye' watch down on us all the time, and I know, ye' see it isn't just about physical love. That it's about so much more than that. It doesn't feel wrong. It feels right, and not the way a murderer says it feels right to kill, but the way anyone should feel about loving someone else. Please, let this be right in ye' eyes. Let this be okay, because… because I can't stop. I don't want to stop. I love Sam, and I will continue loving him for the rest of me life, and if I ever wanted anything more, its that ye' give us ye'r bessing_

Satisfied with his plea, he stood up, brushed off his pants even though they weren't dirty, and breathed a sigh of relief. "There, I feel better," he said to the night air, staring up at the sky once more and smiling. It was then that he truly believed he was right with the Lord, and that no matter what the priest told him, everything was going to be just fine.

Another ten minutes and he arrived at the end of the woods, reaching the road he needed to cross to the strip. Before he crossed, he scanned the line to see what there was to eat. For a whole five seconds he considered getting pizza, but Sam would kill him if he came home smelling of pepperoni.

He settled instead for The Grille, an American bar and grill with all kinds of classics to eat. Deciding to treat himself, he settled on a steak and baked potato. He wished Sam was there with him, especially when the waitress gave him a pitiful look when he asked for a table seating for one. Before leaving, he ordered a to-go meal for Sam and headed out.

The trip back home was a little quicker. The temperature was dropping and the breeze had gotten a little nippy for March. When he trotted over the little bridge, he didn't stop but gave the fish a friendly shout-out anyway, and with the brisk pace, he made it home in no time.

Checking his watch, he didn't realize it was so late. Ten already. He must have spent more time reflecting than he thought. Sam's car was already in the driveway, as well as his parent's. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, only to be leapt on by Mrs. Evans.

"There you are! We were scared to death, where were you!" she fretted, throwing her arms around him.

"I just went to the strip mall to get something to eat," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. "I didn't think it was wrong."

"Leaving wasn't the problem, Rory. It was the fact that you didn't even return a text message to let us know you where you were," Mr. Evans stated firmly.

Rory reached down to his hip, where he usually wore his phone, to find there was nothing there. For a moment he started to panic, and then he looked up to see Sam was waving his phone in his hand.

"I sent you four text messages and even tried to call," Sam said, tossing the phone to the teen. "I guess you wouldn't know that since your phone was here."

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean to leave it here. I thought I had e'erything with me," he explained, his eyes filled with regret.

"Just make sure you text me next time you leave the house," Sam reprimanded, smirking.

Mrs. Evans hugged him again and then stood back up next to her husband. "No dessert for a week, you hear me young man?"

Rory stared at her like she had two heads. It sounded so childish, so over the top. It was an absurd thing to say.

"She's joking, son. Lighten up," Mr. Evans said, squeezing the boy's shoulder. "Make sure you got your phone, we were worried." He pinched his fingers an inch apart. "But, just a little bit."

"I'm sorry, really I am. I didn't realize I left it," Rory apologized again his face flushing in embarrassment.

He slowly strolled to his room, Sam following close behind him. When the door was closed he gently grabbed him by the arm and gave him several playful swats on his rear.

"Hey, stop that!" Rory cried out.

"Just doing what your pop would have done," Sam said with a wink. "Oh, wait, he took your pants down first, didn't he?"

Rory started to back away, putting his hands up. "No no no, ye' are not doing that! I am way too old for that!"

Sam grinned, his eyes filled with mischief. "Oh yes, yes, yes. Bad boys get punished, Rory. Even by their boyfriends!" He was trying to maintain a serious tone, but was failing miserably. He backed him into the corner of the room, the nightstand on one side of the boy, the desk on the other. He had no escape.

The blonde teen reached forward and took Rory by the arm and pulled him forward, then yanked on his pants, pulling them down just enough to bare his bottom. Rory started to plead with him, begging that Sam stop the charade.

Sam shook his head. "Nope. Gotta get what's coming to you!" He pulled the boy down onto his lap and started to smack his butt lightly, not leaving marks but just a pale red blush. Sam went on to make the typical 'dad' statements. "This hurts me more than hurts you!"

After about five smacks, Sam let him up, giggling like a kid. Rory stood, rubbing his rear, which was hardly even burning. Sam smacked his rear harder than that during sex, when Rory was on top, riding him. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Oh hush! Ye' had me scared ye' were gonna really do something," Rory whined, shoving Sam in the shoulder so he fell backward on the bed, feigning injury.

"Spousal abuse!" Sam screeched playfully.

Rory rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle. "Well just for all that, I'm not sharing the food I brought home for ye'."

Sam stopped laughing and Rory suddenly had his attention. "Wait…. Food?"

Rory nodded his head slowly. "Mhmm. Good food, too. A big juicy steak, a buttery potato, some macaroni and cheese. Yep, that will be me lunch tomorrow methinks." He was grinning like an evil mastermind as he picked up the bag off the desk, caressing it as if it were treasure.

"Now  _that_  is evil. I won't do it again if you let me have it," Sam said, his tone changing to something much more childlike.

Rory shook his head. "No, no I don't think so. Ye' were mean to me. I don't wanna feed a boy who beats me," he joked, still stroking the satchel of food lovingly. "It smells so good, too. I had the same thing, it tasted amazing. I can't wait to have it for me lunch tomorrow."

Sam got on his knees in front of him, looking up with puppy dog eyes and his hands clasped together. "Please… Please can I have it? I'll be good! I promise!" Rory scoffed at him, failing at maintaining his own giggles.

"Fine, fine. Here, I can't stand to see a grown man beg on his knees like that," the Irish boy said, handing the container to Sam's prized dinner down to the kneeling boy.

Like the child he was pretending to be, Sam jumped up and started thanking him, squeezing with tight hugs. "I'll be right back!" The older teen ran out of the room with his prize, and within a few minutes he returned with a plate, the delicious meal atop it, just as fresh as if the cook had just brought it out.

Sam gobbled the food down like a hungry dog, Rory giggled at his overactive eating, sitting back on the bed, finally inspecting his phone. Sure enough, Sam had sent him several texts and missed calls.

"So you walked the whole way there and back? By yourself?" Sam asked between bites.

"Sort of. I had ye' with me in spirit. It was peaceful. Nobody around. I was gonna play on the swings on the way home but it got too chilly," Rory replied casually. "I tried to visit the turtle but there were only fish there."

"I'm glad you at least went to do something. I felt bad I had to work and everyone else was busy," Sam admitted. "I guess that's gonna happen though."

"It's okay. It gave me time to think." There was a comfortable silence as Sam finished his meal and Rory sat staring into nothingness, a pleasant smile on his face.

"I feel better now," Rory stated, breaking the silence. Sam had a quizzical look on his face. "About church. I talked while I was in the woods. I think I made e'erything right. It's just fine now."

Sam smiled at him. "Good, I'm glad. As long as you're happy."

"I am," Rory replied. He leaned over and dragged his laptop to himself and started typing up an email. Sam wasn't trying to snoop but he noticed the user picture on the email was that of Seamus. The pair of them hugging, in fact.

After Sam finished eating and Rory completed his email, they spent the rest of the evening playing video games, their session ending in a tie, an event that resulted in mutual physical satisfaction until the were sated and sleepy.

 


	20. Episode 20: Kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Anyone who watched 'On My Way' will totally see where this episode got some of its inspirations. I highly recommend for the true experience of this chapter, obtaining a jar of peanut butter and a spoon._ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality – be sure to read her Sory story The Plan That Actually Worked!

**Recap:**  Sam finally got better just in time to see Rory kick some major butt in the swim meet. Rory got panicked when he thought he saw some thugs in the mall and Mr. Evans had a heart to heart with him. Sam went with Rory to mass, which was a mistake because the priest told Rory he would go to Hell for loving Sam, luckily Rory went for a walk and prayed until he felt better about the whole thing and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 20: Kids**

April Fool's Day was an entirely new concept to Rory, so he was completely taken by surprise when Sam woke him up, seeming to be in a panic, claiming they had forgotten to set the alarm and, as a result, were going to be late for school. Rory had been in such a hectic rush to get out of bed that his brain didn't even register the fact that it was actually Sunday.

Rory had jumped up and, like the wind, began to pick out clothes to wear to school for the day. He glanced at the clock and started mumbling about how stupid he felt for not double checking the alarm. He knelt down and started sifting through his bag to make sure he had his books and things read, only to realize that none of his homework was finished.

"Oh no! How could I forget to do my assignment? I'm gonna be in so much trouble. It was an important one, too!" he fretted. As he was cursing himself in Irish and running his hand through his hair nervously, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Rory? April Fools," Sam announced, laughing hysterically.

"What? April fooled who?" the boy asked as he shook his head, too busy to decipher what he meant, but his face still filled with confusion and stress. "Sammy, I don't have time for jokes, I forgot me assignment and now I'm going to get a Failure on it!"

Sam smirked. "Nah, no you won't. It's Sunday," he said, laughing again.

Rory suddenly looked bewildered. Suddenly not sure who to trust, he approached the computer and see what the display read. He wiggled the mouse on the computer to turn off the screensaver and checked the time and date. Sure enough, Sunday, April first. He scratched his head, looked around the room as if the walls would give him an answer, and then glared at Sam.

"It's not Monday! I still have today! But, then why would ye' tell me wrong?" he continued to fret.

Sam grinned. "It's April Fool's Day of course. And I fooled you." He ruffled his boyfriend's hair and took his books from him, sticking them back in the bag. "Come on, you still have time to go back to sleep if you want."

"Ye' made it up? On purpose? Ye' lied and told me wrong just for a  _laugh_?" Rory asked, still completely lost, and a little hurt. He plopped back down on the floor, looking at Sam as though he were bonkers and even a little mean. He felt betrayed, wounded. Sam had just  _lied_  to him for a cheap thrill.

"Aww don't be like that, it's all for fun. On April first, everyone tries to play jokes on each other and see if they can get them to fall for it," Sam explained, helping Rory up out of the floor. "I had to get up to get ready for work anyway, so… I thought I would play a little joke on you, that's all. Lighten up."

Rory gave him a dirty look, scrunching up his nose in an angry scowl. "Ye'r an arsehole, Sammy Evans!" he declared, crossing his arms and looking pouty.

Sam laughed again. "Don't be so sour. I got you, now you get to try and get me back. You have all day to think of something. Just don't joke about people dying or getting hurt. Anything else is fair game."

"Fine," Rory said flatly, still a little unsure what the point of the so called holiday was. "I'm going back to bed."

"Good idea, you grump," Sam said, grinning. "I was funnin' ya, it's all in fun. Don't be mad."

Rory smirked. "Oh, I'm not mad now that I know what it's about. I'm just thinkin' of what to do to get ye' back. Ye'r in for it now, Sammy. This means war!" he declared, crawling back into the bed, throwing his shirt back on the floor, and snuggled up in his blanket.

"Make it good, baby. Real good. Impress me." Sam took out his work uniform from the closet. After his shower, he made sure to spray himself down with cologne, even though he knew that, by the end of the day, he'd reek of pizza again,anyway.

"Okay, I'm gone. Have a good day, Ror. I love you," Sam said, checking his pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone.

"I love ye' too, Sammy. Now go on so I can get back to sleep. I'm grumpy, remember?" the Irish boy teased. Well, half-teased. He really was grumpy after being given such a rude awakening for a holiday he didn't understand.

Sam chuckled to, a sense of accomplishment filling him. He hoped Rory wasn't really mad at him. It was, after all, just a joke. Before he closed the door, he looked back at his boyfriend, who had already fallen back asleep.  _My god, he's so beautiful._ It was something he told himself every single day.  _I'm a lucky guy._ He backpedaled a moment, kissed him on the forehead, and scooted out of the room.

-ooo-

Rory was sitting at the table, eating a sandwich and chips (or crisps as he called them), lost in deep thought as he tried to come up with some way to play a joke on his boyfriend.

"You look like you're thinking up the cure for cancer or something. What's on your mind?" Mr. Evans asked, pulling a handful of lemons from the fridge, setting them on a cutting board.

"Hmm? Oh, just trying to come up with a plan," the boy answered.

"A plan?" Mr. Evans asked, raising an eyebrow and turning around from his lemon slicing.

Rory grinned. "Yes, sir. I learned that today is April Fooling day, and I owe Sammy a good one. A real good one."

Mr. Evans snickered. "Uh oh, what did my boy do to you?"

"He woke me up at the crack of the morning, telling me we were late for school, and I 'aven't finished me assignment yet! I didn't know today was Fooling day," Rory explained. "I was so mad!"

Mr. Evans started laughing. "That sounds like Sam alright. You definitely owe him a good one," he chuckled. "Got any ideas yet?"

Rory frowned. "No. Nothing I come up with is good enough. I want to  _really_  get him a good one!"

"Hmm, let me think a minute." Rory's host father tapped his chin with his finger, contemplating possible methods of revenge, making the occasional 'hmm' or 'huh'. Suddenly he shouted out, startling Rory, causing him to almost choke on his sandwich.

"I've got it! You want to really get him good? Real, real good?" he asked. Rory nodded his head excitedly. "You know one of Sam's prized possessions is his guitar. He loves that thing like a baby. He would go nuts if anything happened to it."

Rory looked skeptical. "I don't want to break anything. Ye' have an evil look on ye'r face."

The older man snorted with laughter. "Trust me, you do this one and Sam won't play anymore tricks. Here's the plan…"

-ooo-

Sam came home around six, tired and smelling of pizza. Rory was on the bed, lying on his stomach, staring up at the TV, the PS3 controller in his hand, buttons working furiously.

"Hi, Sammy! How was your day?" Rory asked innocently.

Sam looked suspicious already. "Fine… And what did you do all day?"

Rory smirked. "Oh, nothing. Almost," he answered, trying not to giggle. "Aw, crap, I just died," he fussed, pushing another button on the controller.

"Almost? Almost? Depending on what that means, you might not just be croaking on your game," Sam warned. Rory gave him an innocent half-smile.

"All I 'ave to say is to check ye'r DVD collection."

Sam suddenly got a very worried look on his face. His DVD collection, while small, was one of his favorite things. He started picking up cases and snapping them open, inspecting each disc. He started to get nervous when all that was left was his Avatar Collector's Edition box set.

Rory had turned his full attention to Sam's investigation, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. Sam pulled open the case to his beloved DVD to find inside the disc was face up, the disc looking like Freddy Kruger had a field day with his claw on it.

"Dude! What the fuck?" Sam screeched. "That's not a joke, that's cruel!" He plopped down on the floor staring at it as if he had lost his dog.

Rory was giggling hysterically. "Hey, Sammy?" Sam looked up at him to find a disc, covered in a plastic sleeve, flying toward him. He reached up and caught it, opening it. The disc inside was the Avatar DVD, completely unharmed.

"Wait, what the…?" He opened the case back up and popped out the disc to find it was a blank disc, all scratched up. "You little…. I'm so gonna get you!"

Rory was rolling on the bed, laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. "Serves ye' right Sammy! April Foolings!" Sam jumped up on the bed on top of him and straddled him, giving him a light smack on the cheek. "Hey! Ow!"

"Oh that didn't hurt! I oughta give you a sound whooping like your pop!"

Rory tried to push him off, but Sam didn't budge. The bigger teen leaned down, face to face, an angry look in his eyes. "Okay, you got me and you got me good." He planted a kiss on those Irish lips that he was so fond of. When he broke their kiss, he whispered to him. "You're lucky I love you, you sly fucker."

"Sammy! Such language!" the boy teased. "Just for that, ye' owe me a song. Me feelings are hurt!" Rory mocked, pretending to be upset. In reality, it was all part of his 'master plan.'

Sam sighed. "Okay, okay." Rory loved for Sam to play him songs on the guitar in the evenings when they weren't playing a game or watching a movie. He sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up his guitar, and started to strum the strings.

And the strings all snapped.

"Whoa! What the-?" he shouted in surprised. He pulled his guitar up on his lap and checked the strings. Upon closer inspection, they weren't guitar strings at all, but pieces of thin elastic the color of guitar strings.

"RORY!" he shouted. Like lightning, Rory leapt off the bed and made a mad dash for the door. He was laughing hysterically as Sam chased him, having thrown the guitar on the bed. "You are in serious trouble!"

Rory ran like the wind, dodging the couch, two kids, a chair, and then right through the kitchen and out the door to the pool room. As Sam darted behind him, he saw his father laughing so hard he was grabbing his chest.

"You're in deep trouble too, dad!" he shouted as he ran by, throwing open the door. Rory was barely ten feet ahead of him. The Irish boy took a running leap into the pool. Sam jumped in right after him, both boys still in their clothes.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Sam screeched, swimming over to his boyfriend, who was still trying to regain enough composure to swim away. No such luck, however, as Sam advanced on him and pushed him underwater.

They wrestled around in the pool for several minutes, giving empty threats of bodily injury. By then, Stacy and Stevie had come to see what the commotion was about, giggling and cheering the boys on.

Mr. Evans stood at the edge of the pool, still laughing. "Alright now boys, simmer down!" he said loudly, snickering. Rory quickly thrust himself over to the edge and caught Mr. Evans off guard, yanking him into the pool with them.

When he came up for air, he was shouting like crazy. "Traitor! Traitor!" he called, pointing at Rory. "See if I help you out again!"

It then turned into all three men trying to drown each other, the kids rolling at the hilarity.

"Hey! Break it up, dinner's almost ready!' Mrs. Evans shouted into the room. The three men finally calmed down, gasping for air and trying to recompose themselves.

"Okay, okay, truce," Sam offered. The three of them shook hands and pulled themselves up out of the pool, dripping wet. All of the towels were in the house, so they tried to squeeze the water out of their clothes as much as possible.

Treading lightly through the kitchen, the three were once again reprimanded – this time for tracking water into the house. "I just mopped yesterday, you're getting water everywhere!" she fussed, waving a wooden spoon in the air like a weapon.

Mr. Evans retreated to the safety of his bedroom, while Sam and Rory found safety in their own.

"My dad helped you with this?" Sam demanded.

"Sure did. It was his idea. Well, we came up with it together. The DVD was my idea, to throw ye' off guard, so ye' wouldn't expect the guitar," Rory explained, still grinning.

Sam grabbed a couple of towels from the closet, and both boys stripped down and dried off. Sam looked him up and down with 'bedroom eyes.' "You played a mean joke, but I still want you so bad right now," he said in a husky voice.

"Not now, Sammy, ye'r mum has dinner ready," Rory argued, digging through his drawer of underwear. "Oh, here's ye'r real strings. I got ye'r dad to take them off so I wouldn't mess them up."

Sam took the roll of guitar strings from him and set them on the dresser behind him. When Rory turned around, Sam pressed up against him, putting one hand on the side of his face and kissing him. His other hand started to caress the boy's side, starting at his upper arm and tracing down past his wrist and to the side of his rear.

"Not now, I'm hungry. After," the teen insisted. "After dinner I'll give ye' what ye' want."

"Just what  _I_  want?" Sam questioned suggestively.

Rory grinned again. "What I want too, of course." Sam pressed up against him again, kissing him once more.

"Boys! Dinner! Put your clothes on and come eat!" they heard Mr. Evan's shout from the dining room.

"Coming, dad!" Sam shouted back. They both hurriedly pulled on fresh underwear and pants, slipped on dry shirts.

-ooo-

After dinner, they returned to Sam's room long enough to put on sneakers and grab light jackets before heading out for a walk. The children begged to come with them, but Rory, their favorite authority figure, told them they had to stay home.

The pair walked hand in hand all the way through the park, stopping to play on the swing set. Sam pushed Rory to help get him some speed before Rory let himself launch off of the seat into the sand below.

"Beat me distance, Sammy!" he challenged. Never one to back down, Sam got into the seat and allowed Rory to push him. When he launched out, he landed just a few inches shy of where Rory's footprints were.

Sam huffed in defeat. "I'm heavier than you are, that's not fair."

"Excuses, excuses," Rory gloated. They continued to play on the playground like a couple of kids for several more minutes before continuing on to the trail. The ultimate goal was to get ice cream again, but overall they just wanted to get out of the house for some fresh air.

"I just can't get over how pretty it is out here," Rory observed once again. Every time he came through the trail he made a comment on the scenery. As before, when they stopped on the bridge, he greeted the fish.

Sam smiled. "It's so cute that you do that. Talk to the fish, or the turtle or ducks. Like a little kid." He put his hand on Rory's shoulder and squeezed. "You really got me good tonight, you know."

Rory beamed. "I know. I upped ye' one!"

"Ha! You mean you one-upped me!" Sam corrected, giggling at his boyfriend's error in slang.

"Yes, that. Ye' should know I would never do anything to ye'r stuff though. Ye'r guitar is like ye'r baby. And that movie, it's ye'r favorite."

"Mhmm," Sam mumbled. He had taken to watching  _Avatar_  a lot more lately, even waking up in the middle of the night and putting it on until he fell back asleep. He listened to the score when he was doing his homework even. It had become more of an obsession now than it had been.

"What's so special about that movie anyway? Ye' watch it just about e'eryday now. I woke up in the middle of the night last week and ye' were watching it on the TV. I mean, I know it's ye'r favorite movie, but ye'r gonna melt the DVD ye' keep that up," Rory teased, poking his finger in Sam's side.

The blonde smiled, looking out onto the lake. The moon was shining down, reflecting off the water. He looked like he was in another world.

"Sam? Sammy? Ye' in there?"

Sam snapped out of his daze. "Huh? Yeah, I'm here. Just thinking."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "What are ye' thinkin' about?" He scooted closer to him so their sides were touching. "Hmm? Sammy, what are ye' thinkin' about?"

Sam smiled, staring at the moon. "You'll make fun of me if I tell you," he said.

"No, I won't. Tell me."

Rory couldn't see Sam blushing in the dark. "Noooo, I'm too embarrassed."

"What for? Quit being a dork, tell me what ye'r thinking about," the Irishman insisted.

Sam was quiet for several minutes. "Promise not to make fun of me?"

Rory smiled at him and held his hand. "I promise, Sammy. Just tell me, please." He tried to lock eyes with him but Sam looked down at his feet, truly embarrassed about whatever it was he had to say.

"Well, actually, I was thinking about… well,  _Avatar_ , and us," the nerdy blonde admitted quietly.

"What do ye' mean by ' _Avatar_  and us'?" Rory asked, confused. "Is that another Americanism?"

Sam couldn't help but chuckle. "No. It's a Sam-ism. It's just, I've been watching it so much lately. Every time I see it, I see these…" he tried to think of the right word, closing one eye and staring up with the other. "Parallels. Parallels between us and the story in the movie."

"Oh. Oh, okay," Rory said, still a little confused.

"You're making fun!" Sam exclaimed. "You said you wouldn't!" He lowered his head again, staring at his feet.

Rory put his hands on his hips. "I am not! I just don't understand. Keep going, I want to understand." He lifted Sam's chin with a finger, forcing him to look up. "Come on, explain to me."

"I just see things in the movie that make me think about you and me. Our relationship and stuff," the older teen said sheepishly. Rory cocked his head, an indication to elaborate.

"Look at Jake Sully and Neytiri. They're like us. I mean, because you're in a whole new world, away from home, and things are different here. You're like Jake. Strange place, needing to be 'taught our ways'. American ways," Sam started to explain.

Rory smiled. "At least I get to be Jake. That means ye'r Neytiri."

"Yes, exactly. A guy Neytiri though. You came here in this foreign little world, and I'm teaching you how to live here. Just like her, I took you into my house, spent every waking moment with you, and… and then you started to grow on your own, able to take care of yourself," Sam continued.

"I don't know about that one. I've needed ye' a lot. The party, for example?" Rory argued, still smiling, his eyes soft and full of adoration.

Sam shrugged. "Neytiri protected Jake from animals at first. Then he learned to fight on his own. You're doing the same thing. Going on your own to do your own things."

"I couldn't 'ave done that without ye' though," Rory pointed out.

"Jake couldn't fend for himself without Neytiri."

Rory nodded in understanding. "Okay, I'll go with that, then. Is there more?"

Sam grinned. "Yeah. There is. Hometree. Hometree is us. You and me together. Our relationship. It's come under attack, just like the Colonel attacked Hometree, people have attacked our relationship. But we defend our Hometree. We don't back down, even when they tried to make our Hometree fall and blow it up, we just made another one, and put up a fight."

"And won, right?" Rory clarified.

"Yes, and won. And we do every day. Azimio is that damn Colonel, and we beat him, too. He was the strongest attack against our Hometree and we beat him, together."

Rory smiled and kissed him quickly on the mouth. "Yeah, yeah we did."

"There's more," Sam added. "Remember the scene, when Neytiri tells Jake he is Omaticaya and can choose a woman – well for us, a man. And the whole movie is about the Na'vi and their lifelong bonds with each other, and their bonds with the Ikran, right? And Jake says he has already chosen, but that she must choose him, too."

Rory smiled again, translating it all in his head from the movie to Sam's way of seeing things. Rory had become part of Sam's 'tribe', his family. He had forged a lifelong bond with Sam, just like in the movie, and the bonds with Sam's siblings and parents were like the secondary bonds the characters had with their animals. It all made sense when he put it all together. Sam had really thought this through. He began to wonder why he never noticed these parallels before himself.

They were both silent for several more minutes, Sam staring at the ground, feeling stupid. "I told you it was dumb."

Rory shook his head. "No. No, it isn't dumb. It's wonderful." Sam smiled but still couldn't look up. "Sammy? I see you," he said, quoting dialogue from the film.

Sam slowly looked up at him, the look on his face one of pure relief. "I see you," he said in return.

"I 'ave already chosen, but this man must also choose me," Rory said, the words flowing out of his mouth as smoothly as the character in the movie.

Sam finally looked up completely, staring deep into Rory's eyes. So deep, that he felt like he could see the boy's very soul. "He already has," he said, smiling wider than he ever had before.

Just like in the movie, the pair embraced, kissing intimately as if there were no one else in the entire world at that moment but them. The moon didn't exist, the water, the bridge, the sky, nothing existed but them.

After being lost in each other for what seemed like an eternity, Rory finally asked a question. "Sam, ye' tell me all the time how much ye' love me. How happy ye' are. Why was it so hard for ye' to say this to me?"

Sam blushed in the darkness. "I guess I was afraid you might think it was stupid." He chuckled. " I guess I should know better by now, huh?"

Smiling, Rory kissed him once more. "Of course ye' should know better. Ye' should know because ye' aren't  _skxawng_."

Sam beamed. "No, I guess I'm not a moron."

"So if I am Omaticaya now, and I have chosen, and he has chosen me, what happens now?" Rory asked, continuing with the movie imagery.

"Once you choose each other, that's it. Forever. Lifelong bond."

Rory sighed. "Good. I like that."

They continued to stand on the bridge, holding each other, staring off into the water. Suddenly they were passed by a couple, not much older than themselves. A man and a woman. Sam was a little nervous if they would react or not. The girl bade them a good evening and the gentleman gave them both friendly nods. Rory looked up at Sam and gave him a reassuring glance.

"Aren't they adorable?" they heard the woman ask her mate. "Who cares that they're both guys?" The two boys exchanged happy grins.

"I hope they're as happy as we are, babe," they heard the man reply, his response genuine by the tone in his voice.

Rory looked up at Sam again after taking another glance at the moon. "See, Sammy? There's still hope for the world."

"Yeah, there sure is," Sam replied, smiling happily.

"D'ya think Omaticayans like ice cream?" Rory asked.

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, I think so. Let's go hunting for some, and then we can go back to Hometree for the night."

"That sounds real good."

The started to walk off down the trail. "I love you," Sam said, giving him a squeeze.

"I love ye' too," Rory replied. He paused for just a moment, then added, "Neytiri." They both burst into joyous laughter all the way to the end of the trail.

-ooo-

Sam and Rory sat at the lunch table with the usual group – Mike and Tina, Blaine and Kurt, and Finn and Rachel. This particular day was different, however, because Mrs. Evans had packed the boys' lunches. On occasion, she would pack a lunch for them, usually with some special treat inside and a little note, reminding them that she loved them and to have a good day. It was just a cute little 'mom' thing, as she said, because her mother used to do it for her as a kid.

Rory unpacked his bag and unwrapped his sandwich. Inside was two slices of bread with some sort of light brown substance and grape jelly. The jelly he recognized, the other stuff was new.

"Uh, Sam? What  _is_  this stuff?" he asked, pointing to the mysterious spread.

"It's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Haven't you ever had one before?" Sam replied, biting into his own.

Rory shook his head. "No… Peanut butter, huh? Weird…"

"Wait, you've never had peanut butter before?" Finn asked, bewildered. "What do you eat over there?"

"Potatoes, of course," Tina answered for him. She was busy eating her own lunch – a small box filled with sushi.

"I refuse to accept any food related advice or answers from someone who eats raw fish," Rachel added. "Seafood should be cooked."

Sam waved his hand to hush them all. "Wait, this is important here. He's been denied a basic childhood food all his life. This will be his first peanut butter sandwich."

Kurt snickered. "It's peanut butter, Sam, not the fountain of youth. Rory, eat your sandwich in peace."

Rory was still examining the strange substance, unsure of exactly whether or not he wanted to try it.

"Here, just try it already," Sam urged, tearing off a small piece of his own and stuffing it in Rory's mouth before he could protest. Everyone else was staring at him, awaiting a response. He began to chew slowly, letting the flavor sink into his taste buds.

"Well?" Blaine asked, breaking the tension. "How is it?"

The boy took a swallow and then immediately grabbed his drink, taking a big gulp. "That's really good!" he exclaimed. "Kind of… sticky I guess? Like I 'ave to 'ave a drink right after to wash it down."

"That's usually the case," Sam explained. "It's thick and creamy."

"Uh we  _are_  still talking about peanut butter right? Because I'm still eating…" Finn interrupted. Rachel smacked his knee, shocking his head out of the gutter.

Rory held up his sandwich and took a bite. And another, and another, and before he knew it, it was all gone. He started licking his fingers, getting every little bit he could. "More?" he asked, sending everyone else into fits of laughter.

"Here, finish the rest of mine, but give me your banana," Sam offered. Rory quickly traded and started eating, making satisfied noises of joy.

"Did he just ask him for his banana? Is that code for-" Finn whispered to Rachel.

Rachel shoved him in the side. "Oh stop, Finn! You're being gross. Get your mind out of the gutter. Again." Finn shrugged and went back to eating.

When Rory finished the second sandwich, he repeated his request. "More?"

Blaine laughed and shook his head. "Unless that's a magic bag you have, I think you're out of luck. Gotta wait until you get home for more."

Rory had a look of disappointment on his face, the way someone would look if their dog was shot. "But… it's so… yummy." Sam threw and arm around him and laughed.

"I tell you what. When we get home, you can have the whole jar of peanut butter. Just don't tell mom, she'll freak that you spoiled your dinner," Sam told him. The boy's eyes brightened up at the sudden promise of more of the tasty morsel.

"It's the little things in life that make me happy," Rory stated with a grin.

"You have some on your chin. Here," Sam said, wiping it off with his fingertip. Rory seized the digit and licked the peanut butter off of it before Sam even had time to react.

"Don't ye' waste that!" the peanut butter virgin squealed.

Mike spoke for the first time since they sat down. "I think someone has a new addiction. Sam, you might need to organize an intervention."

Sam shrugged. "Not yet, he hasn't started going into convulsions and robbing banks to pay for spoonfuls of Jiff." The rest of the table erupted into fits of laughter, but Rory was again confused.

"Jiff. It's a brand of peanut butter. One of the best. It comes in smooth and creamy, crunchy, or swirled," Sam explained.

"Crunchy? Swirled? Swirled with what?" the boy inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Sam was about to explain, but Kurt beat him to the punch. "Baby steps, hon. Baby steps. Don't go too far, too fast. Sam can show you the wonderful world of peanut butter varieties later."

"I can't wait!" Rory exclaimed. He finished the rest of his lunch, sans banana, and read his note from Sam's mother.

_Have a great day, honey! Enjoy your practice. Love, mom_

"That's so cute," Tina commented. "She even says 'mom'."

"Careful, she'll be begging for grandkids next," Mike cautioned. "My mom is already talking about it, and we aren't even graduated from high school yet!"

Finn scratched his head. "How are they gonna have children? I mean, where's the baby gonna come out?"

"You seriously did not just ask that," Kurt said, a look of horror on his face. Finn shrugged, not understanding the entire concept of two men having a baby together.

Blaine decided to be kind enough to give an explanation. "If they want kids, they can adopt, or find a surrogate. That's a woman who has the baby for them and gives it to them after it's born."

Sam shuddered. "Okay… all this baby talk is kind of freaking me out. No babies are on the way anytime soon, right, Ror?" Rory simply shrugged, not sure how to respond to the question. He had thought about having kids. He had even thought about Sam making a good father, but it wasn't something he gave serious attention to. It was just pipe dreams.

-ooo-

As promised, when they got home that afternoon, Sam fetched the jar of peanut butter from the cabinet, stuck a spoon in it, and handed it to the eager teen, who immediately started scarfing it down.

"Don't choke on it! Have some milk," Sam instructed, handing him a glass of chocolate milk. The boy took it, sipped, and then realized that the mixture of flavors was incredible.

"Just wait. I'll show you how to slice up a banana and put it on your sandwich. Or dip apple slices in it." He made a mental note to pick up some Reese's cups so he could introduce him to the world of chocolate and peanut butter done right.

Sam kissed him on the cheek between spoonfuls. "Okay, I'm off to work. Don't make yourself sick, and like I said, don't tell mom you ate the whole jar." Rory nodded, sucking on the spoon. Sam smiled at him, pleased that such a simple thing made his boyfriend so happy.

-ooo-

By the end of the week, Rory had eaten two whole jars of peanut butter, and an entire box of Ritz peanut butter mini crackers. He started drinking milk with his lunch to wash down the thick spread and cracker crumbs.

Mr. Schuester had gathered everyone in the auditorium instead of the choir room for the end of week glee club practice. They all sat in a circle on the stage, somber. Kurt stood up and made an announcement.

"Some of you know already, but Dave Karofsky attempted suicide this week," he said, his eyes watering. "As you know, Dave and I had a very rocky 'friendship'. We were enemies for a long time, and then some things happened and as it turned out, Dave was gay."

Kurt sniffled as he went on with his monologue. "We pretty much declared peace, and he left the school. Unfortunately, one of the jocks at his new school spotted him talking to me, and…" Tears started streaming down Kurt's porcelain face. It was obvious he felt responsible.

"It spread through the school, on Facebook, Twitter, everything. He couldn't take it, and tried to take his own life," Kurt explained, wiping tears from his eyes. "His dad found him in time. He's in the hospital now."

The room was silent. Locked in shock, no one dared speak. With the exception of Rory and Sugar, everyone knew the history between Kurt and Karofsky. It was Kurt's understanding and compassion that allowed Dave to find the courage to start over again. Sadly, the jocks there did to him what he had done to Kurt, and worse, and he couldn't take it.

Mr. Schue finally broke the silence. "Dave is a troubled young man. He needs help from his friends, and from his family. I know that we all had a lot of problems with him, but now is the time to put that behind us, and to try and show compassion and understanding. If Kurt can do it, so can we."

"What exactly happened?" Rory asked, setting down the jar of peanut butter he had been spooning all afternoon.

"The Cliff's Notes version is that last year, Karofsky treated Kurt the way Azimio treated you, minus the murder attempt," Santana answered. "Kurt went to another school, then he came back, Karofsky went all nice on him, and everybody made peace. And you know, eating all that peanut butter is really going to make you sick, and I only care because I don't wanna be there to see it."

_Leave out the part where you pretended to fuck him just to get Kurt to come back so we could go to Nationals,_  Sam thought bitterly.

"All because Kurt's gay? And now because this boy is gay?" Rory asked nervously.

"Yes," Blaine answered. "I don't know how it is in Ireland, but here, being gay is still a big deal to a lot of people. People get a lot worse abuse on a daily basis than you did from Azimio, and your thing with him was life threatening. You can't imagine how awful it is for others."

Rory looked at the floor, saddened by this revelation about Karofsky and the state of homophobia in the States. He knew there was some acceptance, but he didn't realize just how bad the homophobia was as well.

Sam put his arm around his boyfriend. "Hey, don't feel bad. Just do what the rest of us are doing. Pray for him." Rory gave him a half smile and nodded.

"Now, something I want every single one of you to know, is that suicide is never the answer. We each have something to live for, and no matter how bad it gets, we have each other to help us through," Mr. Schue said, looking around at each student.

"We have big dreams that we want to achieve, and we have things we want to achieve every single day. None of us can reach those goals if we aren't here to do it. If anyone, any of you, ever feels like you need help, like things are hopeless, too tough, or you just need a shoulder to cry on, we are all here for each other. Every single one of us." He continued looking around at them, meeting eyes to make sure the message was hitting home.

"If you can't find one of us, you always have Miss Pillsbury, Coach Bieste, Coach Sylvester, Principal Figgins – any teacher. And if none of them, there are resources we can make use of." Mr. Schue picked up a sheaf of papers and started passing them out. "This is a list of phone numbers and websites you can use to find free counseling and help for yourself, or for someone you care about. Use them."

The students looked over the papers, the looks on their faces filled with sadness.

"Now, to cheer things up a little, we're gonna go around the room, and I want everyone to state something they want to live for. Whether it's something as simple as making it to see the new episode of your favorite show, or where you want to be in ten years, whatever it is, share something you want to live for," the glee club instructor said.

Mercedes went first. "I want to live to see Rachel's children. I bet they come out of the womb singing." Everyone laughed, the tension now broken.

"I want to see my kids take their first steps," Artie shared, glancing down at his legs.

Sugar smiled and nonchalantly admitted that she was anxious to stick around for Sex and City Part Three. Several of the guys groaned.

Puck just wants to graduate, while Quinn wants to make it through Yale at the top of her class. Brittany wants her cat to stop using drugs, while Santana wants to see her grandmother accept and love her.

Blaine wants marriage equality in all fifty states and someday, the world. Kurt is anxious to see his dad help with that dream in Congress.

Mike wants to dance at Carnegie Hall, and to have his father in the audience to cheer him on. Tina on the other hand wants to have her own single released.

"I want to petition to have my dad's dishonorable discharge changed to honorable. I don't want people to remember him for the things he may have done that were wrong. Remember him for what he did right," Finn announced.

"I look forward to having all of you as friends for the rest of my life, cheering me on at Broadway, having graduated from NYADA," Rachel shared. That was a dream everyone knew about from the very first day of glee club.

"I just want to be able to eat peanut butter. Can't do that if I'm gone, right?" Rory joked, not really wanting to share what dream lie in his heart.  _I really want to live with Sam and have a house here, and in Ireland, so we can spend six months in each country._

Sam blushed a little, sharing his dream. "I want to have a family with my boyfriend, complete with the white picket fence, a dog, and two and a half kids."

"Who's gonna be the baby's momma?" Puck asked, trying to fathom the idea of two men raising a child.

"No, I want to know how you have half a kid. Do you get the top half, or the bottom half?" Brittany asked.

Sam neglected to entertain either question, just joining the others in laughter.

Last but not least, Mr. Schue shared his dream. "I want to have a family with my wife, Emma. And I want to see each of you meet your own dreams, so I can cheer you on."

To finish the session, they all came together for a group hug, laced with tears and affection.

-ooo-

On the way back home, Rory was humming along to the radio, staring out of the window when he noticed that Sam was abnormally quiet. Usually Sam was asking about his day, or telling him about his own, or even singing along to whatever music was on.

"Sammy? Are ye'…?" Rory started, turning around to notice Sam had wet streaks down his cheeks. He sat up straight and put his hand on Sam's. "What's wrong?"

Sam sniffled, trying not to let Rory see him cry. "I'm okay."

"No ye' aren't. Ye' have the sniffles and there's so much dirt in ye'r eyes ye' overflowing," Rory argued softly. "Come on, what's wrong, Sammy?"

The older boy pulled over to the side of the road, stopping in front of someone else's house. "I just… I can't imagine what life would be like, if… if you had killed yourself," Sam confessed, his eyes getting more watery.

"Why would I do that?"

"When Azimio was harassing you. Bullying you and everything else. I mean, it was painful enough seeing you go through that, and then being in the hospital, but I can't imagine if you had gotten so upset you took your own life," Sam said, letting the dam break and the tears flow freely.

Rory smiled. "I don't think I could ever do that. Even when they were tormenting me, I had ye'. I always knew that no matter how bad it got, I had me Sammy to come back to. To make me feel better. Feel happy again. As long as I 'ave that, 'ave ye', I know I can survive anything."

The younger teen leaned over and kissed Sam. He could taste the salty tears that had run over the thick lips.

"Don't ever worry about me like that, Sammy. I could never take me own life. I 'ave too much love around me," Rory stated, their noses touching, eyes locked.

Sam sniffled again. "I... I don't think I could live without you." He listened to his own words as he spoke them. "I don't think I could live without you. I never thought I would ever say that to anyone."

Rory smiled at him. "That's okay, ye' don't necessarily mean that. Ye' would go on and-"

Sam stopped him with another kiss. "No, I  _do_  mean it. My body could live on, but my heart would be dead."

"Don't talk like that, Sammy. I'm gonna be just fine, and so are ye'. We're gonna die cranky old men rockin' in the chairs." Sam couldn't help but laugh at that.

"You're only cranky when I get cranky with you first. Or when you lose a game," Sam said, chuckling. "I know, I'm being silly. I just can't help but think about it with all this talk about Karofsky and suicide."

Rory huffed. "Well I'm not gonna kill meself, and ye'r not gonna kill ye'self, so quit thinkin' about it, boyo." Sam smiled and nodded his head. "Promise?" Sam nodded again. "Good. Now let's go home." After one more kiss, Sam started up the car again and they went on the rest of the way home, Sam finally under control and Rory singing along happily with the radio.

-ooo-

Mr. and Mrs. Evans were home early, the kids already running around the house, chasing each other in a game of tag.

"Hey, you guys are home early," Sam observed, Rory right on his heels, pushing his way past and scurrying to the bathroom.

"He has had to pee for the past ten minutes. Don't worry about him," Sam joked. "So why are ya'll home so early?"

Mrs. Evans motioned for him to have a seat on the couch. He suddenly got a nervous look on his face. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing too serious, son, but your aunt down south is sick. She's going in the hospital for surgery and needs some help with the kids and some other things. Your mom and I are going down there to help," his father explained.

"What's wrong with her?"

"She fell. She tripped and tumbled down a flight of stairs. She's okay. She suffered a concussion, and needs knee replacement surgery. Your uncle is trying to get home, but he won't make it for a week," his mother explained.

Right then, Rory came back in to pick his bag up off the floor. He saw that some sort of serious conversation was going on. "Should I leave ye' to privacy?" he asked nervously.

"No, dear. Sit down, you're family, too. We were just telling Sam that his aunt is having surgery and needs some help with her kids until her husband comes home. He's military," Mrs. Evans went on to explain.

Rory took a seat next to Sam, their shoulders touching. They had long since stopped keeping 'comfortable distances' and slipped into a routine of some form of subtle body contact.

"We need your help, boys," Sam's dad announced. "We can't take the kids with us this time. There's too much going on, and they will only cause extra stress. We need you two to watch them."

Sam groaned. "Really, dad? All week?"

"Yes, son. A whole week. That means you gotta pick them up from school, feed them, drop them off in the morning, and make sure they have their little bit of homework done," his dad replied sternly.

Sam was about to protest, but Rory interrupted.

"Ye' can leave it in our hands, sir, ma'am!" Rory said, giving them a salute.

"Good attitude, soldier," Mr. Evans stated, returning the salute. "Don't look so bummed, Sam. It's just Stacy and Stevie. You haven't gotten to spend much time with them anyway."

"Think of it as practice for when you boys start your own family," his mother added. Sam and Rory both looked at each other with wide eyes. Sam then stood up, took Rory by the hand and announced their departure.

"I think on  _that_  note, we'll be going to our room now. Thanks, mom, for making this completely awkward," Sam said, ushering his boyfriend down the hall.

Rory turned and waved at them over Sam's shoulder. "Don't worry, we can handle e'erything just fine!"

"Get. In. The. Room," Sam said between clenched teeth.

"What did I do?" Rory asked as soon as Sam shut the door.

Sam sighed. "Nothing. I just wanted my mom to be quiet before she said anything else weird."

Rory grinned. "I thought ye' said this afternoon at glee club that ye' wanted a family with ye'r boyfriend."

"I do," Sam replied, wrapping his arms around the Irish lad and pulling him down into his lap on the bedside. "But not yet, and I don't want my mom getting ideas yet."

Rory laid back and nuzzled his head against Sam's chest. "How about right now ye' just keep us stocked in yummy, creamy Jif?" Sam looked down at him and grinned.

"You keep eating all that peanut butter and you're gonna be sick," Sam mentioned. "For once, Santana had a point." He kissed the top of Rory's head and squeezed him.

"Okay, I'll ease up on the tasty. Can I at least finish the jar I started?"

Sam took the jar off the nightstand and stuck his finger in it, swirling it around and getting a good amount covering it. He stuck it in Rory's mouth, who practically fellated the treat presented him.

"Now that's your ration. You can have some more tomorrow." Rory grumbled but agreed, taking one more good suck off of Sam's finger.

"What if ye' put some of that on ye'r-"

"NO! I am  _not_  putting that anywhere near there!" Sam declared.

Rory giggled. "I was only joking. Sort of." He got up and plopped into the desk chair, leaning over to pilfer through his bag. "I hate homework."

"So do I, which is why I only do about half of it," Sam admitted.

"Sammy! Ye'll fail and get held back or something!" Rory exclaimed, starting to dig into Sam's backpack, pulling out his notebook and throwing it to him.

Sam half-smiled. "You do know that I was held back once already, right?"

Rory crinkled his brow. "No. Why were ye' held back?"

"My dyslexia. In third grade, I started having really bad trouble reading, and I failed a lot of classes. That's when we figured out dyslexia is what it was. Didn't you wonder why I am going to be nineteen and still a senior?"

Rory shook his head. "No. I don't keep up with how ye'r school system works like that. I just know ye'r a senior and I'm a sophomore."

"Well, it's not usual for a nineteen year old to be a senior. Usually they're graduated and in college by then. Why do you think I feel so stupid sometimes?"

Rory got up and gave Sam a light smack in the face. "Samuel Evans don't ye' ever say ye'r stupid again!" he reprimanded, putting his finger in Sam's face. The older boy was taken aback by the sudden outburst. Rory suddenly blushed, embarrassed.

"Sorry, Sammy. I just… I hate when ye' say that about ye'self. Ye'r not stupid. Not at all. Ye'r very smart. It makes me sad when ye' say you're dumb," Rory confessed, sitting back down.

"Heh, it's okay. I guess I kind of deserved it if it upset you. You don't know what it's like though, growing up with a reading disorder. Words get mixed up and I don't know how to fix it, no matter how hard I try. It's frustrating, and… sad," Sam admitted.

Rory put his arm behind Sam and started to rub his back. "No, I don't know what it's like. But I know I can try and help. I'm not a professional, but we can find ye' the help ye' need. Ye' made it this far, right?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I dunno, I just feel dumb sometimes because I don't always understand stuff that everyone else does."

"Well look at me," Rory pointed out. "I don't understand stuff all the time. I get sayings mixed up, and don't get ye'r slang, and don't even know what some things are at all. That doesn't make me dumb. Not understanding doesn't make ye' dumb either. It just means we have to work a little harder," he explained.

Rory kissed him on the cheek and poked him in the side to tickle him. "Cheer up. It's been an emotional day for ye' and ye'r friends."

Sam smiled for the first time since they got to the bedroom. "You got that right. Let's play a round of FIFA and then I'll do my homework, okay?" Rory agreed and they started up the game. One round turned into three, but when Rory won, he declared his prize to be Sam starting his homework. A little grumbly, the older teen took out his schoolbooks and notebook and started to work.

Later that night, Sam woke up around midnight. Rory was fast asleep, as usual. As per his nighttime ritual, Sam turned on the TV and started up  _Avatar_. Again. He turned the volume low but then couldn't stand it anymore. He gently shook Rory awake.

"What's wrong? Is e'erything okay?" Rory asked, waking up in a daze.

"Yeah," Sam answered. "I just wanted… Rory, will you… will you hold me?"

The Irishman grinned and wrapped his arms around his older boyfriend. Sam laid back, Rory still holding on to him. "Ye'r still thinkin' about what we talked over in the car today, aren't ye'?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I just wanted to feel close to you. I needed to touch you, and be in your arms," the blonde replied.

"Don't be sorry, Sammy. I felt the same way many times. I just didn't wanna wake ye' up," Rory explained. He used one of his hands to slowly stroke Sam's hair, feeling the strands between his fingers.

"You can wake me up any time you need to. I'll hold you. Kiss you. Do whatever you want to you," Sam said, changing his voice to a naughty tone at the last suggestion.

Rory giggled. "Ye' know, it's been a while. Maybe we should fix that this weekend. Ye'r parents will be gone. We'll put the kids to bed, and then have the whole night to ourselves. We can do whatever we want."

"Now that," Sam said enthusiastically, "Sounds like a very good plan. I've been wanting to ravage you for days."

"Ye' can ravage me all weekend if ye' want. I have to admit though, that the other day when ye' weren't home, I got kind of turned on and had to, you know, touch meself," Rory confessed, blushing in the darkness. Despite having had sex several times, it still felt a little embarrassing to talk about masturbation.

"That's okay. It's allowed. Well, as long as you think of me," Sam assured him. "You could even do it now, if you wanted to. I'd watch," Sam said, gulping.

"No, I'll save it for this weekend. I want to be in a powerful mood for ye'. I want to be so crazed for it, I'm begging ye' to ravage me," Rory decided. "The next time you touch ye'self, though, I want to watch."

Sam grinned. "Only if the next time you do it, I can watch you."

"It's a deal. Good night Sammy. I love ye', " the young teen said, yawning.

"Good night, Ror. I love you too."

Once he was asleep, Sam felt at ease again, until his nightmare began.

Sam tossed and turned the rest of the night, the visions in his head tormenting him. All he could see was Rory, hurting himself. The imagery was too awful for him to handle, bringing him out of sleep, running to the bathroom to vomit.

"Are ye' okay, Sammy? Ye'r not getting sick again are ye'?" the younger teen asked when Sam crawled back into bed. Rory put his hand on his forehead and against his chest. "Me God! Ye'r sweating like a sheep before a shearin'!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "A sheep before shearing? That's a new one. I'm fine. Bad dreams is all."

"Ye' sure? It must have been an awfully bad dream to make ye' sick like that," Rory noted. "If ye' get sick again, ye'r going to the doctor, ye' here me?"

"I'm fine, I promise," Sam insisted, changing his look of distress to a smile. He kissed Rory on the forehead and laid back down, the young teen wrapping his arms back around him.

"If another bad dream comes up, just call me, I'll come runnin' in and save ye'," Rory said with a chuckle.

Sam slept like a log the rest of the night in a dreamless slumber.

-ooo-

Mr. and Mrs. Evans gave their sons (they had both shifted to calling Rory their 'son', much the way in-laws do for their children's spouses) last minute instructions for the care of the two children before they pulled off to visit Mrs. Evans' sister.

"If you boys have any problems at all, call us right away," Mrs. Evans instructed. "Don't do anything I wouldn't approve of in front of the kids."

"Don't worry, mom, everything is gonna be fine. Rory has it all under control, don't you, babe?" Sam said, winking at his boyfriend.

"Yes, ma'am! Have no fear, Rory Flanagan is here! I'll keep all three of ye'r kids in line just fine," the lad announced. He beamed at Sam. "Yes, I said all three, that means ye' too, Sammy."

Mr. and Mrs. Evans went into fits of laughter. Somehow, it was all the funnier to them that Sam was being treated like one of the little kids, too.

"Bye guys, I'll try not to beat Rory up while you're gone," Sam smirked.

"Don't you dare hurt my son!" his mother warned him. "I'll tear you a new hide!"

The two students finished bidding their folks farewell, waving as they backed out of the driveway and down the street.

Sam sighed and looked at his mate. "Well, here goes nothing."

Rory tugged on his arm. "We'll be fine. I already watch them all the time. This won't be much different. They listen to me."

"Okay, well then you can be in charge of them, 'Mr. Rory'." Sam smacked him firmly on the rear, then kissed him on the head.

As soon as they got in the house, Stacy was chasing Stevie through the living room, fussing at him to give back her markers.

Sam smirked again and looked at Rory with an expectant glare on his face. "Well, handle it. Hop to, chop chop." Rory cut him an annoyed glare, then turned to survey the situation.

"Stevie! Stacy! Stop runnin' right now!" Rory bellowed. Both kids stopped as if they stepped in glue. "What's the problem?"

"Stevie took my markers and won't give them back!" Stacy screeched, glaring at her brother.

"Stevie, give them back to her," Rory stated firmly.

The young blonde haired boy lowered his head and walked over to his sister, handing her the box of markers. He looked up to see Rory give him a curt nod. "I'm sorry, Stacy."

"That's better. Now you two go to ye'r rooms until lunchtime. I think ye' need a break from each other. If ye' behave, we'll all go swimming later." Rory's voice was even, yet stern. There was no doubt he was in charge and serious, but he didn't sound intimidating or scary, or even angry. The kids just knew that he wasn't going to take any misbehavior.

"Off with ye' now. I'll come get ye' when it's time for ye'r lunch," he instructed. Both kids turned around, about to walk to their rooms, but Rory stopped them. "Ah ah! Now what are we missing there, guys?"

Both children looked at him and smiled big toothy grins. "That's better. Always leave with a smile."

Sam looked at Rory with admiration and surprise. "Wow. You didn't have to yell or anything. How did you do that?"

"Easy. The idea isn't to scare them; it's to let them know I'm in charge. They like me, they don't like upsetting me. Kind of like their big brother," he replied, looking up at Sam and smiling triumphantly.

"You amaze me, baby. You really do. So we have a couple of hours to kill before noon, what do you wanna do?"

Rory shrugged. "Why don't we do some singing? Ye' can play ye'r guitar and we can duet."

"Duet, or do it?" Sam snickered. "Sorry, lame joke. Just getting a little rowdy."

Rory poked him in the chest with a finger. "Ye'r gonna have to be rowdy a little longer because no playtime until I put the kids to sleep." Sam smiled and shook his head.

"Your own kids are in so much trouble someday," Sam said with a chuckle.

"Me own kids? How about  _our_  kids?" Rory corrected him. Sam blushed, realizing what he had said.

"Yeah, I mean  _our_  kids. Hopefully a boy and a girl," Sam said dreamily.

"Don't forget a dog and two point five kids," Rory reminded him. "Oh, and that picket fence, too."

Sam just nudged him in the shoulder, following him to the bedroom. They picked out a couple of songs, Sam starting to strum the newly replaced strings on his guitar. Rory didn't realize it, but Mr. Evans had accidentally messed one of the strings up when he took it off for their little joke.

-ooo-

As he had promised, Rory retrieved the two children when it was time for lunch. They had calmed down considerably and were getting along just fine. Time apart from each other was exactly what they had needed.

Sam sat at the table with them, playing rock/paper/scissors, while Rory fixed them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with some potato crisps. Milk finished off their meal. After they were done, Rory made them each put their plate in the garbage, wash their hands, and put their glasses in the dishwasher. Even Sam was told to participate, to set a good example.

"Why do I feel like I'm one of you guys?" Sam whispered to Stacy, sending her into a fit of convulsive laughter.

"Sammy's just a big kid and Mr. Rory's in charge!" she chanted. "Sammy has to do what he says!"

Sam glared at her, pretending to be mad. "He don't scare me, I'm older and bigger than he is."

"Oh yeah, Sam?" Rory interjected. He took him by surprise and using all his strength, slapped him on the butt, hard. Sam yelped in shock at the sudden fire ignited under his jeans.

"Hey! What was that for!"

Rory smirked at him. "Just reminding ye' who's boss," he said smugly, winking at Stacy and Stevie, who were literally rolling around on the floor giggling hysterically.

"Okay, get on ye'r swimsuits, we're goin' swimmin'!" Rory announced. The kids ran cheerfully to their rooms, excited at the promised activity.

As they were changing into their own trunks, Rory noticed the big red mark on Sam's rear where he slapped him. He giggled at him. "Looks like me hand is a little tougher than ye' thought."

"That was so not necessary," Sam said, feigning pain.

"If I can handle ye'r big dick for an hour, ye' can handle a slap on the arse for a minute," Rory smirked.

Sam pretended to be offended. "Such vulgarity! I am ashamed!"

"Save it, Sammy," Rory admonished as the hormonal boy came up behind him, his manhood already half stiff. "Tonight, I promise." He turned around and kissed him, poked him in the tummy, and then pulled up Sam's trunks for him.

Disappointed, Sam adjusted himself to hide his arousal until he got his body back under control. Not an easy task, as seeing Rory in any state of undress, even shirtless, make him salivate.

They spent the afternoon playing in the pool, trading off games of volleyball, relays, and Marco Polo. After they wore themselves out, the small family watched a movie,  _The Smurfs,_ which only made Sam think of  _Avatar_ as the blue-toned creatures popped up on the screen _._

After enjoying the movie and some popcorn, Rory instructed them as they made dinner together. Stacy helped Sam make the salad, while Stevie helped Rory with seasoning the chicken and mixing the mashed potatoes. The kids were so excited over the event as their parents had never before allowed them to assist in the kitchen.

After dinner, they let them watch their shows –  _Powerpuff Girls,_ and  _Spongebob_ , and then before they knew it, it was bedtime for the young kids. Sam and Rory sang a short song to each of them, kissing them on the forehead, and sending them off to peaceful sleeps.

"I am seriously impressed and amazed," Sam told him as he flopped back onto the bed. "I've never seen someone do so well with a couple of kids like that."

Rory shrugged. "I watch Seamus all the time. They pick up that if they're good, we have fun. If not, they have to be bored. It's pure and simple logic," the teen stated matter-of-factly.

"I can definitely say without a doubt, that our kids would be in good hands," Sam complimented. "Mom and dad will be really impressed, too," he added, pulling Rory onto his lap.

"Right now, I feel like something else might be impressed," Rory teased, wiggling in Sam's lap, teasing his growing erection.

"You are  _such_  a tease! The kids are asleep, come on, I want you," Sam pleaded.

Rory yawned. "I'm too tired. Maybe tomorrow."

"Oh no you don't! You promised!" Sam argued, feeling the cleft between Rory's cheeks rubbing against his crotch.

"Well, if ye' insist." Rory smiled at him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stood up and started to kiss Sam, the other teen turning slow and sensual kisses into hungry passion. Breaking their kiss only long enough to pull of their shirts. Their hands returned to roaming their bodies, their lips mashed together once again.

"Close your eyes," Sam ordered, his voice laced with lust. Rory closed his eyes and Sam used a neck tie as a blindfold. He ordered Rory to stay still, and reached into the drawer next to the bed. Inside was the usual lubricant, but also a fresh jar of peanut butter.

He stuck his finger in it, getting a big glob of it and bringing it right up to Rory's lips. Rory excitedly opened his mouth and started to suck the peanut butter off, his tongue working as if he had Sam's manhood between his lips. He made quiet noises of satisfaction as he finished licking it clean.

"More?" Rory asked in an innocent tone. The same tone he had used the first time he tried the tasty morsel at the lunch table. Sam dipped his finger in again, getting another swirl of paste. This time he spread it along Rory's lips like Chapstick.

Rory began to lick his lips, but Sam stopped him with a kiss. It was probably the strangest kiss they ever shared – their tongues working in and out of each other's mouths, peanut butter coating their lips.

"Okay, that was kind of…"

"Gross," Sam finished, both of them laughing. Regaining his composure, he assured Rory that the rest of his little plan was going to be much better.

Once again, Sam coated the boy's lips with peanut butter, but this time instead of kissing him, he simply let him lick his lips. Rory made little noises of pleasure as the sweet and creamy substance ran down his throat.

Feeling slightly goofy, Sam took another swirl and spread it over one of his nipples. He then took Rory's head and placed his face right in front of the coated pleasure spot, and allowed him to start licking.

Rory recognized where he was on Sam's body right away. He had stroked and kissed this chest so many times, he knew it by heart. He licked and sucked every last bit of peanut butter off of Sam's chest and then went to teasing his hardened nipple. He nibbled gently with his teeth, making Sam groan in pleasure.

When he pulled his face away, Sam guided him toward the other peanut butter coated nipple, running his hands through his brown locks, pushing on his head just slightly so he couldn't stop until Sam was ready for him to.

Curious about his own ideas, Sam covered Rory's nipples with the paste and then leaned down to lick them clean as well. The Irish lad shivered as tingles went through his body.

Now, Sam was feeling ever the more adventurous. He took Rory's hand and pushed it into the jar, instructing him to get a big handful. Rory did as instructed and then Sam guided him downward. Rory knew without being told what to do. He grabbed Sam's dick in his fist, coating it in creamy spread.

It was an odd sensation, the greasy peanut butter on his throbbing cock, and even stranger when Rory began to stroke him, the paste acting as a lube. Nevertheless, Sam was able to maintain his erection and eventually took pleasure in the weird experiment.

After several moments, Rory got down on his knees, taking off the blindfold and tossing it aside. He then wrapped his lips around Sam's dick, licking the leftover peanut butter off of it. He fellated him vigorously, the flavor of smooth creamy crushed peanuts filling his mouth, mixing in with the salty taste of precum.

Rory didn't stop until he could tell Sam's dick was free of peanut butter. His hand still had a decent amount of it, which he began to lick off as well. Sam stopped him, guiding his hand down to Rory's own cock.

"Touch yourself," Sam ordered. Rory did as he was told, slowly stroking himself. The substance was starting to feel greasy as it mixed with his precum, but Sam knelt down and took him in his mouth anyway. He wasn't quite as skilled with cleaning him of peanut butter, but he got the job done.

"Only a little bit left in the jar…" Sam observed. "Open your mouth." Rory opened up, and Sam placed his coated fingers on the boy's tongue and gently massaged it, the boy swallowing the peanutty goodness as it was spread on his eager tongue.

"Sam, I want to…" Rory began, his body quivering as his tongue was given an entirely new type of stimulation.

"Wanna what? Say it," Sam told him. It turned him on so much to hear Rory talk dirty, to tell him what he wanted.

"I wanna cum," Rory admitted. He had gotten used to Sam's demands and took a lot less time adhering to them. He still felt foolish using vulgar terms, but as long as it made Sam happy, it made him happy.

Sam grinned and started to stroke the boy again. He then put his lips around the Irish cock again, working his tongue with a new resolve. It took very little time before Sam was sucking the cum right out of him, causing Rory to whimper.

Sam made sounds of satisfaction as his throat was assaulted with sticky seed. He licked his lips and then stood back, waiting. It was Rory's turn. Coating himself with the very last of the peanut butter, Sam guided the teen to his hard cock and pushed his face down.

"That feels amazing," Sam said, panting. He had his hands on Rory's head, pushing down, forcing the teen to deep throat him. Rory gagged just a little, but Sam's lack of mercy forced him to acclimate.

"I'm ready…" Sam stated, his breathing speeding up, his body shaking. Sam shot several days worth of hot cum down his boyfriend's throat, almost drowning him in the white substance.

"So, what did you think of that?" Sam asked him as they were using towels to wipe themselves off.

"It was different. I liked it, but I don't think I wanna do it all the time," Rory answered. He observed the empty jar and grinned. "Was that my ration for the day?"

Sam chuckled lightly. "Try the whole weekend. That was a big jar, and I'm worried you might make yourself sick with so much of that stuff. Chill on it, okay?"

Rory sighed. "Okay, I will." He agreed reluctantly.

"Good. Let's go to bed, I'm tired," Sam suggested. "We can sit in the bed and watch a movie until we fall asleep."

Rory nodded. "Sounds good to me, Sammy."

Sam put on a DVD and crawled under the covers to join his mate. "I'm so impressed with the way you handle the kids. I tease you about it, but you really are good at it."

Rory didn't hear the compliment, however, as he was already asleep before the DVD even started.

 


	21. Episode 21: Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: Hey, look, another chapter that isn't filled with death and dismemberment :D This was a very fun chapter to write, as the places they visit mid-chapter are based on real-life experiences for me. We're getting closer to the end of the season here, and already making mental notes for what I wanna do in the next one! I'm so excited!_  
>  **  
> Beta Credit:** SkewedReality

**Recap:**  Rory discovered the wonderful world of April Fools' Day and peanut butter, leading to a new addiction for the Irish lad. Dave Karofsky made a suicide attempt that led to emotional discussions in the glee club where Sam revealed his dream of starting a family with Rory. Sam somehow turned his life into Avatar, which shows he is just too obsessed with the film. Mr. and Mrs. Evans left town and the boys have to watch the kids, so Rory became a domestic father goose and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 21: Vacation**

Monday was the start of a new week and a new level of stress. The weekend hadn't been so bad – Stacy and Stevie were easy to appease and neither Sam nor Rory had to really  _worry_  about them. But now that it was back to school, that was going to change.

Normally the boys would get up around six thirty, shower, grab a morning snack, and get to school with time to spare. Now, they had to get up at five thirty so they had time to get themselves ready, get the kids ready, feed them breakfast, and drop them off at their own school.

"We're gonna end up missing our practices this week, aren't we?" Sam asked on their way to McKinley, having just dropped off his siblings.

Rory shrugged, nodding. "Yeah, I think just for this week. We 'ave to pick up the kids before our practices would be over."

Sam rolled his eyes. "This is getting on my nerves already."

Rory put his hand on Sam's shoulder in a calming manner. "Calm down, it's only for a week. Don't look at it as a chore, look at it as a chance for us to spend time with ye'r siblings."

Sam smiled at him and leaned over for a quick peck. "You're right. I have been wanting to spend some time with them. I still have to work all week. Are you going to be okay with them by yourself?"

"O' course I will. I watch them all week and whene'er ye'r parents need me to. They listen to me, remember?" Rory replied smugly. "Would ye' watch the road? I don't wanna die!" he teased as Sam leaned over for another quick kiss.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Sam talked to Mr. Schuester about their absence for the week from glee club, and Rory spoke with Coach Roz. Or rather, he attempted to speak with Coach Roz. He had to resort to writing down his declaration when, on his third attempt, she still didn't understand him through his accent.

"Are you serious? You had to write it down?" Blaine asked at lunch. He was already in shock over the fact that Rory hadn't packed himself a peanut butter sandwich for lunch.

"Yes. She never has any idea what I'm saying," Rory clarified, chomping on a bag of potato crisps.

Kurt cocked his head to the side. "You know, I noticed ever since you came back from the accident, your accent has been really strong. Way more than it was when you first got here. What gives?"

Rory blushed a little at the question. He had hoped nobody noticed, and after so much time had passed, he assumed no one did. "Well, when I got here, I… I wanted to try and be more, ye' know, American. I thought if I could get rid of me accent, I would fit in better."

"You purposely tried to get rid of it? That's crazy, Rory. I love your accent. If other people had a problem with it, then that's  _their_  problem," Blaine replied. He slung his arm around Kurt, leaning his head against his boyfriend's. "It's like us being gay. It's not  _our_  problem if someone doesn't like it. Same with your accent."

Rory nodded slowly, willing the blush from his cheeks. "I kind o' got over it when me mam and pap were here."

"Speaking of parents, did you guys know we have a pair of dads here this week?" Tina mentioned, nodding toward Sam and Rory. Everyone focused their attention on their two friends.

"Wait, what?" Kurt asked, confused. "You still live with your parents, and you're still foreign. How did you qualify to adopt kids?"

Everyone was laughing except for Kurt, who failed to see the humor in his confusion.

"No! They're taking care of Sam's brother and sister while his parents are away," Tina confirmed for them. Kurt almost looked disappointed, as if he had hoped there had suddenly been some form of progression in the plight of the gay man.

"Sam, you don't sound all that thrilled. I thought you liked your siblings," Tina asked, fumbling over another container of sushi and rice.

Sam shrugged. "Nah, I like them fine. I'm just not used to having to be responsible for them twenty-four seven."

"It won't be so bad. It's not like you're by yourself. You have your handy boyfriend to help you," she encouraged. "Besides, if you need help, you have your friends. Stop stressing over it."

Rory poked Sam in the side. "Yeah, Sammy, stop stressing o'er it. It'll be fun. Ye'll be at work most of the evening anyway."

"This is better than a daytime soap opera. We have the househusband Rory, taking care of Sam's little blonde haired children, while Sam slaves away working, bringing home the bacon," Kurt swooned.

"I like me bacon in strips, not the chopped up kind from the pizza place," Rory stated.

"That just means I'd be the one working and making money," Sam whispered to his boyfriend, placing his hand over Rory's.

"Oh," Rory said quietly, looking sheepish.

Mike smiled, speaking for the first time all lunch period. "Look at it like this, Sam. It's good practice for your own kids. You two would make great fathers."

Rory and Sam exchanged nervous glances, both of their cheeks growing hot with embarrassment at the very idea they would be having children anytime soon.

-ooo-

Sam hugged his younger siblings, Stacy squealing in delight at the gentle kiss on top of her head as well. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay by yourself? They're a handful."

Rory flipped down the collar of Sam's polo shirt and smoothed his hair. "We'll be fine. Go to work, I promise, me and the kids and the house will still be here when ye' get back."

Sam smiled at him and kissed his forehead. "You're amazing. I love you. See you this evening," he said, reluctantly leaving for his nightly deliveries.

The young Irishman had no problems with the kids, most likely because he bribed them. They were told that if they behaved the entire week, then Friday night he and Sam would treat them to dinner at BreadstiX. While that wasn't but so much of a big deal for the older teens, it was a big production for the children.

When Sam came home from work, he found that Rory had already put Stacy and Stevie to bed. He poked his head in each room long enough to kiss them on their foreheads, wish them goodnight, and then send them off to sleep for the night.

"You cooked dinner and everything?" Sam asked, noting the lack of fast food garbage.

Rory shrugged. "O' course. If I feed them junk all week, ye'r mum and dad would never forgive us." He fixed Sam a plate of leftovers and set it before him. It was nothing exciting, just some baked chicken and vegetables from the freezer. All it required was a half hour in the oven and out it came, good as any real home cooked meal.

"This is good," Sam observed, shoveling forkfuls into his mouth. "Home made?"

"Only if me last name was Stouffer," Rory replied with a giggle. "Ye'r mum left plenty of easy meals for us to eat." He sat at the table, watching intently as Sam ate. It was as if he found the scene captivating, like he had never seen Sam eat before.

"Uhm, what ya starin' at?" Sam asked, setting down his fork. "Do I have something on me?" He picked up his napkin and started to wipe his mouth, wondering if he had made some sort of mess.

Rory shook his head, grinning. "No," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I just like watching ye' when I can. E'erything ye' do is fascinating to me. Just because it's ye' doing it."

Sam's lips turned up in a smile. "That's romantic in a creepy sort of way. Just like something I'd say," he replied. As he continued to eat, Rory put his hand on Sam's forearm, tracing lines up and down.

"That tickles," Sam said, chuckling a little. "But keep doing it. I kinda like it." His tone was almost suggestive, but he was far too tired to even think about fooling around.

After Sam finished his dinner, Rory cleared the table and joined Sam in his room. The older teen was sitting at his desk, working on math homework, chewing on the end of his pencil. Rory curled up on the bed with his laptop, surfing the internet, having finished his homework earlier.

As they lay naked in bed, taking advantage of the fact Sam's parents weren't around to object, Sam was muttering to himself. Before he went to sleep, he had to make one final declaration for the night. "Rory, you are really amazing."

-ooo-

By Thursday, Sam was ready to take back his normal teenaged life. He loved his siblings, and they had plenty of fun playing in the pool or playing sports outside, or even coloring, he was ready to have some time away from them that wasn't work. He wanted some substantial alone time with Rory, to go on a date or something, anything, that didn't involve kids.

"Just one more day, Sammy. Ye'r off work tomorrow. We're gonna go out to dinner, like a little family," Rory had told him. The idea was cute, and both of them were looking forward to it.

-ooo-

When the hostess seated them, Stacy and Stevie were very intrigued by the concept of being taken to their seats and then having someone else come take their order. They had been to restaurants before, but not one as fancy as BreadstiX. Well, what they considered fancy, since Rory had insisted they dress nice.

"They're so cute," the waitress commented adoringly. "They must be your relations," she added, looking at Sam, referring to their blonde hair.

"Sammy's our big brother! And Mr. Rory is his special friend!" Stacy decided to announce. Sam almost choked on the soda he was sipping, but the waitress just laughed.

"You are very lucky to have a big brother and his friend who take you out to dinner," the waitress said. "You must be very good children."

Rory and Sam exchanged looks of pride. "They are. Of course, Rory took care of them mostly. I had to work all week," Sam explained. "My parents come home tomorrow though. I'm ready for some free time again."

"I understand. I used to babysit my sisters all the time," she replied. "That's cute that she calls you his special friend," she added, referring to Rory. "So, what can I get you guys?"

Dinner was uneventful. The waitress had brought the kids children's menus and crayons so they could color the activities on the back of the menus. That kept them quiet for the most part, while Sam and Rory sat back and relaxed.

The kids had been so good, they were even allowed dessert. The four of them shared a huge brownie covered in vanilla ice cream. The tasty treat stood no chance against three boys and a little girl with an appetite that didn't match her tiny frame.

After they got home, they spent the rest of the evening watching a movie – too full to eat popcorn – they just sat and watched. Stevie fell asleep on the floor, and Stacy wasn't far behind. The two teens carried them to their respective rooms, then went to their own bedroom and plopped down on the bed.

"I am  _so_  glad mom and dad come home tomorrow. I need alone time something bad!" Sam exclaimed, sighing.

"Admit it, Sammy. It's been fun," Rory insisted, poking the older teenager in the side. "Ye'r mum and dad will be impressed."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, they will. You did a great job. You're amazing."

Rory grinned, his eyes shining. "No,  _we_  did a great job.  _We're_  amazing," he corrected him. "But, I have to admit, I am ready for some time alone with ye'."

"I say the first thing we do once mom and dad are back, is go to our little place in the park and say hi to the ducks and the turtle," Sam suggested, yawning.

"Sounds like a good idea. We can take them some bread this time," Rory agreed. "Sam? I feel like an old man, but, I think I'm ready for bed."

Both of them laughed, agreeing that it had indeed been a long day, and sleep was needed. Sam put on a movie, the usual of course, and within minutes they had both fallen fast asleep.

-ooo-

As soon as the children heard the car doors slam, they bee-lined for the front door, throwing it open in excitement to see their parents.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Stacy squealed, leaping into her father's arms. Stevie settled for the less dramatic hug that he gave his mother. He suddenly had reached the stage where he felt he was too mature for 'baby things'.

"We're glad to see you, too," Mrs. Evans said, her younger boy following them inside, Stacy still in her father's arms.

Sam and Rory both smiled, happy to see the return of the adults in the household. Freedom was theirs once again.

"Wow, the house looks so nice," Mrs. Evans commented, looking around. "We should go out of town more often." What she didn't know was that the teenagers had spent the better part of the morning running around frantically to make sure the house looked presentable.

After helping bring in the bags, the two teenagers sat at the kitchen table, Mr. and Mrs. Evans joining them with tall glasses of lemonade.

"So, how was it? You didn't kill them, obviously," Sam's dad joked, a look of approval on his face.

Sam exchanged a look with Rory that read 'Thank God it's over'. "They were good for the most part. I gotta give most of the credit to Rory though. I had to work most of the week, so he was on his own with them a lot."

"He makes it sound like it was a chore," Rory said before anyone else could comment. He was blushing at the fact that Sam was giving him so much credit when they had both contributed to caring for the kids. "We all had a good time. We made dinner together e'ery night, they didn't give me any trouble about their baths or going to bed on time."

The Evans parents looked at each other, then back at Rory, impressed with the young man's ability to watch their children with such ease. "You let them cook?" Mrs. Evans questioned, raising her eyebrow.

"Yes, ma'am. I didn't let them do anything dangerous. Just little things, so they knew they were helping. Me brother Seamus loves feeling like he's doing somethin' special. They're the same way. I hope ye'r not mad, they said ye' never let them cook before."

Mrs. Evans gave him a kind smile and touched his hand. "No, dear. Not at all. I think it's wonderful. I just never thought they had an interest."

"Oh, Rory found out plenty about them this week, didn't you, Ror?" Sam interjected, giving his boyfriend a playful nudge.

"He's being silly," Rory defended himself. "All I found out was that they missed spending time with their big brother."

Mr. Evans grinned at his son. "Looks like you're popular, Sam. I guess you better manage your time to fit them in, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's not my fault I have to balance school, glee, work, homework, a social life. I probably couldn't handle it all if I didn't have  _someone_  pushing me along," Sam said, looking right at Rory when he said 'someone'. The younger teen blushed again.

"You're so mature for your age, Rory. Don't forget to be a kid, too," Mrs. Evans reminded him. "I think you earned some time off. Don't worry about watching the kids this week. Go out and have some fun."

Rory nodded with a smile. Despite having enjoyed being such a domestic for a week, he really was craving a little bit of relaxation and fun.

The family (Rory was considered family by every meaning of the word, according to Mr. Evans.) talked about the trip to Sam's aunt's, her health, everything his parents had to do while they were there. When they finally finished 'jawflapping', as Mrs. Evans called it, the two teens decided to go for a walk to the park.

-ooo-

The couple walked hand in hand all the way down the street and to the park. It was midday, so the park was full of kids running around, acting crazy. They immediately headed for the trail – a far more peaceful place to be.

"So, how do you feel after a week of playing dad?" Sam asked, looking down at Rory, who was gazing into the woods, observing a deer.

"It was fun. But I'm tired. I'm ready to have fun again," the Irishman answered, finally looking away from the deer and at Sam.

Sam squeezed his hand and smiled. "I think you did an awesome job. You're gonna be a great dad someday. Your kids-"

" _Our_  kids, ye' mean," Rory interrupted. "They'll be our kids. Not just mine. Ye'll be their dad, too." He was wearing a happy grin that revealed his ambition more than he expected.

"Already planning our future?" Sam asked, winking. "I thought we were taking baby steps?"

Rory blushed, realizing what he had insinuated. He went back to looking at the deer without responding. Sam simply smirked, knowing that his observation was correct.

"You know, I'd be happy to start a family with you someday," Sam said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. " _Someday._ But we gotta get there first, right?" he added, trying to ease the boy's mind.

The younger teen smiled and nodded, hoping to change the subject. It was far too mature of a conversation for the moment. He wanted to not think for a while, to just be relaxed and mindless, not having to worry about being responsible for two children.

"Hey, look! The ducks are back!" Sam exclaimed, pointing ahead near the bridge. Sure enough, the ducks were there, quacking away. "Good thing I grabbed some bread before we left. Here, get some to toss to them," he said, holding out the small bag for Rory to partake.

"They're so cute, Sammy. I want some ducks, I think," he said playfully, tossing several small pieces of bread toward their beaked buddies. He accidentally dropped a piece and three ducks rushed toward him, nipping at his shoes.

Sam started to laugh. "They think you're food," he said. "You are kind of tasty, but they can't have you," he teased. He threw some more bread in the other direction, taking the ducks' attention elsewhere.

Rory saved a few pieces for their turtle friend, but he seemed rather disinterested in bread. "Hmm, I wonder what he  _does_  like," he considered. He threw the remainder of his stash back toward the ducks, the two teens watching them with fascination.

"Ye' know, Sammy, it's the simple things like  _that_  that I love doin' with ye'," Rory stated, almost dreamily.

Sam grinned at him, taking his hand again. "Me, too. It's definitely more romantic than playing video games and watching movies." Rory nodded in agreement, looking up at him.

"I feel so happy right now. Genuinely happy and relaxed," Rory said, a soft smile crossing his features. "E'erything just seems so peaceful. No stresses. I could stay here forever if it meant no more worries."

Sam stopped walking and pulled him into a loose hug. "I know what you mean," he said. "You know, since you came to America, you haven't really had any peace. You got picked on, Azimio tried to kill you, you almost got date raped, I got sick and had to be nursed back from the grave." Sam's voice was somber and understanding, knowing that his boyfriend had suffered so much tragedy in their few months together.

"I know. Sometimes I wanted to just go home. To give up and say to Hell with America," the Irish lad admitted. "But I couldn't leave ye' behind. I'd be too sad. Too lonely without ye'."

Sam kept his arms wrapped around the boy, nuzzling his chin in Rory's hair. "My point, though, is that I think it's time you got to see the better side of things. The fun things. I said before I wanted us to do more things like this – just spending time together, and I meant it." It was at that point that he turned the boy around to face him, eyes locking.

"I mean it, one hundred percent. I'm saving most of my money so we can go out and do stuff. I know you'll have to watch the kids, but I don't want you stressing so much. I want you to  _relax_ , to enjoy your experience here. Not just with me, but overall."

"That means a lot to me, Sammy. I  _do_  feel like things have been… crazy since I got here. It's been nonstop. I've had no real peace. I kind of want… a vacation. Just to get away from e'erything for a while and be free of responsibility," Rory lamented. "I know that's unrealistic, but I can dream, ye' know?" He finally looked away, looked back into the forest at the animals as he begged himself to ease up on life.

"Maybe it's not just a dream. We can do it. We can have a little vacation of fun. There's nothing stopping us. Spring break is week after next. The end of April. We won't have to worry about missing school. We can find something fun to do," Sam suggested enthusiastically.

What Rory didn't know was that Sam was already planning in his head exactly what he wanted to do for a vacation away from home. Now he just needed to start making preparations. He was determined to show Rory the better side of America, the better side of life that didn't involve pain and suffering, drugs and feeling violated. His lips started to turn up into an almost mischievous grin.

"Yeah, we'll find something real fun to do. Don't make any plans, okay? I'll take care of everything," Sam ordered, drawing Rory's face back to him by his chin with a finger. He kissed him and then took his hand again, the pair continuing their stroll down the trail until they made it to the ice cream shop, the perfect way to treat themselves after a long week of stresses and responsibility.

-ooo-

Sam waited until Rory was in the shower to seek out his mother. She was in the kitchen, making lunches for the children, humming to herself.

"Hey mom, I have a favor to ask," Sam said in a hushed voice.

"Hi mom, how are you this morning? Oh, I'm good thanks. Hey, now that I know how you are, I have to ask you for a favor," Mrs. Evans said, giggling to herself.

Sam blushed a little bit at his mother's humor. "Sorry, mom. I just wanted to talk to you before Rory got out of the shower. It's kind of a secret," he said.

"Well, don't waste time, what is it?" she asked, looking around as if she expected a ninja to jump out at them any second.

"Well, spring break is coming up, and I wanted to do something really special for Rory. He's had it so rough since he came to the States, and I wanted to show him a nice, peaceful, relaxing vacation," Sam explained, trying to keep his excitement to a minimum. If his siblings heard, the secret would be out within seconds.

"Okay, well, do you want some ideas?"

Sam shook his head. "No, no, I know what I want to do, but I need your help." He gave her the 'look', a face that was so adorable nobody could ever deny him what he asked for at that moment.

"Oh lord, Sam, stop with the puppy dog face," she admonished. "You know that melts my heart. Now what do you need?"

"Well, you know your friend… that owns that house on the lake….?" Sam was doing his best to act innocent and cute to win over his mother's heart.

"Yes? Let me guess, you want me to ask her if we can stay there, right?"

Sam grinned. "Well, not  _we_ , but just me and Rory. And just us. No parties, no friends, no craziness, just me and him relaxing away from home on a little vacation," Sam explained. "It would really mean a lot…."

"Sam, you know she rents it out. It's expensive, and for a week? You're talking at least five hundred dollars. You can't afford that, and neither can we," his mother said, trying not to sound too mean about it.

"I was hoping that maybe you could ask her to cut me a deal, like a discount or even let me pay her a little bit at a time," the teenager said, his voice filled with hope.

His mother thought a moment. "Alright, I'll talk to her. I'll tell her my son wants to give his foreign friend a great time in America, and maybe she'll be willing to do something for you. Don't count your chickens though."

Sam kissed his mom on the cheek. "Thanks mom, you're the best!" He trotted off back to his room, grinning. Hopefully her friend would come through and help him out. If not, he'd have to come up with some sort of Plan B.

-ooo-

"Alright Samuel, she said she'd make a deal with you. She'll only charge two-fifty, which is half of what a week usually is," Mrs. Evans told him, stealing him away the moment he got home from work.

"What's the catch?" Sam asked, knowing that nothing ever comes free.

Mrs. Evans smiled at him. "I pulled a string or two and called in a favor," she replied. She would have said more, but Rory came bounding in the living room to greet his boyfriend. Sam made haste to his room to change while Rory went to the kitchen to fix him a plate of leftovers.

Mr. Evans nudged his wife in the side, whispering. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

Mrs. Evans shook her head. "No, of course not. I just said I pulled strings and called in a favor. He'd only feel bad if he knew we paid the other half," she explained.

_This is perfect. We have the house for a week, no kids, no parents, nothing. Just me and Rory on the lake. He's going to love this so much! I can't wait! Crap, there's still stuff I gotta do before we go._

-ooo-

Sam stuffed their bags into the back of his car, having snuck a couple of extra bags in the trunk when Rory wasn't paying attention. Before they left, he gave his mom another kiss on the cheek, thanking her profusely.

"You boys have a nice time," his mother said, waving. "And text me when you get there!"

"Come home in one piece! I don't need the Irish mafia coming after me!" Mr. Evans shouted as they backed down the driveway.

"Irish mafia?" his wife asked with a questioning gaze.

Mr. Evans shrugged. "Sure. I heard Rachel Berry mention it when she was over here last." He laughed. "That kid is full of herself. I like her."

"Oh honey, you like everybody."

-ooo-

The road trip was going to be a little over four hours, and the entire time, Sam refused to tell Rory where they were going. Sam packed his bags for him, so he didn't even have a clue what kind of attire he was going to be wearing. Rory finally gave up asking questions when Sam's response to everything was "You'll see!"

They stopped at an IHOP for lunch and made it to their destination around three in the afternoon. They had driven through the woods at least two miles, passing by nothing but trees and fancy cabins and lake houses. By the time they reached the end of the road, Sam pulled into the driveway of one of the smaller houses set back from the rest.

"Here we are!" Sam said excitedly. "Our home away from home for the next week!" He was grinning ear to ear as he jumped out of the car.

"Wait, ye' mean we're staying here? I've never seen a hotel like this before. How many rooms does it 'ave?" Rory asked skeptically.

Sam giggled at his naiveté. "It's not a hotel! It's a house! And we're the only ones here for the week!" He was bounding around excitedly like a little kid. "I've never been here before, but I saw pictures and it's great!"

The revelation that they would be sharing a house for a week finally hit him, and Rory's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Ye' mean we 'ave the whole house to ourselves? The whole week? Ye' and me? Nobody else?" His voice was laced with delight, his eyes shining.

Sam nodded his head happily. "Yep! Just us! No family, no kids, nobody. This is  _our_  vacation! "

Rory threw his arms around the older teen, squeezing him like a pillow. "Oh me god, Sammy, this is wonderful! " he exclaimed, his tone one of complete happiness.

"Wait until you see the rest of it. This is just the front porch. Come on, let's go inspect," Sam suggested, letting go of his eager mate.

Sam unlocked the front door, opting to get their bags after a trip through the house to check things out. It was very homey, like a log cabin would be. It wasn't huge, the size was just right. Everything was made of smooth light colored wood with big cushions on the couches and chairs. The TV was huge, fifty six inches and flat screen. A large but short table was the centerpiece of the room, with fake flowers in a vase in the middle.

The dining room and kitchen were more of the same – light colored wood, cushioned seats, fancy appliances. They stepped out onto the back deck, which looked out over the lake. A small pathway leading down the hill the house sat upon led to the dock and boathouse, where a small fishing boat and two jet skis sat.

"See those? We get to use those, too," Sam said, pointing down at the dock and smiling. Actually, he hadn't stopped smiling since they pulled into the driveway.

"Ye' mean we can go out on the boat, and on the jet boats?" Rory asked excitedly. "I always wanted to go on a jet boat!"

Sam giggled at his use of the term 'jet boat' to refer to the jet skis. "All we gotta do is pay for the gas."

Rory's eyes were misting slightly. "Oh wow, this is so wonderful, Sam! It's like a fantasy! We're really here, right?" he went on, poking Sam in the side to make sure he was real, and not a dream.

Sam embraced him from behind, looking out to the lake with him. "Yep, it's real. A real vacation. Stress free. Just like I promised you."

Rory turned around to face him and pressed his lips to Sam's. He kissed him deeply, wrapping his arms around the older teen. Sam did the same, except he moved his hands down further to grasp Rory's butt, squeezing. The younger boy giggled, knowing that Sam wasn't asking for sex, but just wanted the intimacy that such a touch could give.

"We'll need to go get some groceries, and pick up some gas for the boats. I'll go ahead and bring our stuff in. Why don't you go on down to the dock and get a better view of the cove?" Sam suggested. Normally, Rory would have argued and insisted on helping with the luggage, but this time he simply dashed down to the trail and happily trotted down to the dock. There weren't any other houses in the actual cove; to see other people, they would have to go out to the main lake.

About twenty minutes later, Sam joined him on the dock, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around him again. "So, you like the place I take it?" he asked jokingly.

"Yeah. I love it. It's beautiful."

"Nah.  _You're_  beautiful. Or handsome, or whatever the guy version is. You deserve this so much, you know," Sam replied, shuffling back and forth with his boyfriend still locked in his arms. "So, so much."

Rory didn't say anything but just beamed, lost in thought.  _I could never repay his kindness. He doesn't even expect me to. It makes it that much more meaningful. He'd give me the world if I asked for it. I hope… I hope I can be just as good to him._

-ooo-

After a quick trip to the grocery store for supplies for the week, they changed into swim trunks and ran down to the dock. Without even pausing, Rory took a flying leap off the dock and into the water, landing with an enormous splash.

"How am I supposed to beat that?" Sam called out. He took his own leap into the water, landing on his back in a heap. "Okay, that didn't go so well," he said, coming back up and shaking his head. He looked around and realized he didn't see Rory anywhere.

"Alright, where you hiding? I know you didn't drown, so where are you?" Sam called, teasing. His answer came in the manner of a dunk in the water as Rory leapt out of the water onto his back. "Hey! You snuck right up on me, crazy man!"

Rory was laughing hysterically. "Maybe next time, I'll be a shark and eat ye' whole!" He made chomping motions with his hands, accompanied by gobbling noises as if he were trying to devour him.

They simmered down and floated on their backs, waiting for the sun to set. There was nothing better than a sunset while in the water.

"What lake is this, Sam?" Rory asked. He hadn't thought to question it before, having been so overwhelmed with excitement.

"This is Lake Erie. The biggest one in the area. Of course, you'd never know it if you never ventured from this cove," the blonde replied, wading up toward the younger teen and tickling him, causing him to sink.

"Just a few more minutes until the sun sets, right?" Rory asked, gazing at the sky. Sam wrapped his arms around him from behind him, holding on while they tread water. The sun was finally setting, the sky changing from a bright orange, to red, and finally to purple and black until all that was left was the stars.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Sam asked quietly. "Yesterday we were in school, miserable and stressed out. Today we're at the lake, calm and peaceful." Rory leaned his head back in the crook of Sam's neck, gazing up at him.

"Sammy, I love ye'," Rory stated randomly. "I'm so happy right now," he said softly, almost dreamily.

Sam's stomach growled – they hadn't eaten since noon and it was already late. "Come on, let's go eat. I'll even fix you a peanut butter sandwich," he offered, grinning. He needn't say more, because Rory immediately flopped over and paddled to the dock, pulling himself out and wrapping his towel around himself.

-ooo-

After eating, the boys sat on the couch, snuggled up in their pajamas, watching TV. No movies were on that were worth watching, so they settled for a couple episodes of _Family Guy_ followed by a rousing session of  _FIFA Soccer._

Despite having Rory as a definite winner, they didn't go with their normal 'reward'. Instead they watched a movie, still snuggled up on the couch.

After a half hour, Rory had fallen asleep, and Sam carried him to the bedroom, set him in bed and crawled in next to him. Before he fall asleep, Sam gently kissed his boyfriend and draped his arm over him.

-ooo-

The next morning, they awoke to the sun shining in through the windows, the sound of birds chirping outside. They cooked Sam's southern style breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast and sausage, and then went outside to play.

Sam fueled up the two jet skis, then gave Rory a crash course on how to operate one. Rory stalled out twice before he got the hang of it, and then became a speed demon. He zipped right out of the cove and started racing all around the area, jumping over his own waves.

By the time Sam caught up to him, his face was red from the wind blasting on his face, his hair wild from the wind. He pulled over and drifted right up next to Sam, grinning.

"This is so much fun! I never thought it would be so fast!" Rory exclaimed, throwing his arms around to indicate the speed.

"Yeah, it's fun, isn't it? Just be careful, there's other people out here. Don't get too close, people get mad if you make too many waves," Sam cautioned. "And don't get lost. Just make sure you can see me, okay?"

"Yes, sir!" Rory saluted, giggling. "Time to zoom, Sammy!" Without waiting for a response, he cranked the gas, and the small craft took off like a rocket. Sam just shook his head and laughed.

_Good, he's having fun. He needs it,_ Sam thought, grinning.  _Time to show that little Irishman that he can't outrun me._

Sam cranked the gas on his own vessel, wasting no time in catching up. He looked over at Rory, the younger boy surprised Sam had caught up so fast. They nodded to each other – a silent agreement that a race was on.

They became two blurs on the lake, zipping across so fast, their boats barely touched the water. Rory won, only by a margin, and only because he had no fear at all. Sam shot up sky high as he hit a wave and actually let his nerves get the better of him, his reduced speed just enough to cost him.

"You are fearless," Sam told him as they were drifting into the cove, approaching the dock.

"I know, but ye'r the one crazy enough to try and catch me," Rory replied. He tied the rope to his jet ski, threw off his life vest, and plopped into the water, floating on his back. "I'm hungry. Can we make some hot links?" he asked, rubbing his tummy.

Sam laughed. "You got hungry doing all that speed racing. Come on, water boy, I'll throw some links on the grill if you'll mix up the cheese dip." Rory quickly agreed, Sam chuckling to himself at the boy's name for 'hot dogs'.

Later in the evening, they sat on floats in front of the dock, setting up Sam's laptop to play a movie. Their very own 'dive-in theater'.

The next day they spent just laying out in the sun, racing around on the jet skis some more, and cooking out on the grill again.

-ooo-

Tuesday morning, Rory awoke to the smell of bacon cooking. Sam wasn't in the bedroom, but his nose told him exactly where his boyfriend was. Rory slipped on his boxer shorts and padded out to the kitchen to find Sam, also clad on in boxers, at the stove, preparing breakfast.

"Good morning, baby," Sam greeted him with a smile. They exchanged a quick peck before he returned to his task, humming to himself.

"I could get used to this. Waking up and 'aving breakfast e'ery mornin'," Rory said in a relaxed tone.

"Don't get too relaxed, I have plans for us today," Sam stated, turning off the burner and plopping sausage links on a plate.

Rory looked at him quizzically, curious as to what the day had in store for them. "Well… are ye' gonna share ye'r plan?"

Sam smiled, setting a plate of eggs, bacon, links, and toast in front of the teenager, and then putting a glass of orange juice down as well. "I thought today we'd go out fishing on the boat. How's that sound?"

Rory looked skeptical. He bought himself time to consider the idea by chewing his food extra slow.

"You don't like fishing?" Sam asked, noticing the delayed response, concern in his voice.

"I… I've never been fishing before, Sammy," Rory admitted, hanging his head, embarrassed. "Me pap and I, we never did things like that really. I probably went a time or two as a kid, but don't really remember it."

"No problem. I can show you. It's easy!" the blonde announced enthusiastically. "We'll eat whatever we catch tonight for dinner. I mean, it won't be anything spectacular like mahi mahi or a shark or anything, but tuna or trout will be just fine."

Rory giggled at the mention of the word 'trout'. Anytime someone brought up the word 'trout' or fish in general, it made him think of Sam and his luscious lips. "I'd like that. It'll be an adventure, right?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "That's the spirit. Now eat up. We got a long day of fun ahead of us," he said, shoveling food into his mouth.

They finished their meal, and then Rory went to go take a shower while Sam fixed them lunch to take along on the boat. He packed two sandwiches, some chips, some fresh fruit, and a few drinks - soda, and water. He packed it all in a cooler with some ice and took it out to the boat. When he got back, Rory was showered and dressed in a pair of shorts, a short sleeve shirt, and a baseball cap. He slipped on a pair of sandals to complete the ensemble.

"Wow, you look hot," Sam commented, coming into the room to grab his own clothes. "Not that you don't always look good, but usually more on the side of adorable. Right now you got this rugged and manly thing going on, and I think I'm just gonna shut up now since I sound like a rambling jackass." The teen blushed at his own fumbled words, hoping he hadn't offended the other boy.

As if answering his insecurity, Rory gave him a kiss, poked him on the nose, and said he would meet him down by the boat. Sam grinned, pleased that he hadn't blown it, and changed into trunks, a tank top, and a fisherman's hat, sans fishhooks.

"Okay, I got everything we need already in the boat. Just get in, and we'll set off. Keep an eye on our surroundings. I got a map, but it helps when you recognize where you are, too," the older teen stated. Rory got into the boat and helped him with the ropes and pushed off.

It was an average sized fishing boat, with a canopy over the driver's seat and middle section of the boat for shade. As they set out, Sam started humming the theme to _Gilligan's Island_.

"We know that show even in Ireland," Rory mentioned, chuckling and then humming along. They were standing practically right on top of each other as Sam showed him how to steer the boat. He cautioned the boy against going but so fast, recalling the previous day where Rory had sped off on a jet ski faster than a lightning strike.

"Okay, this looks like a good spot," Sam observed, shutting off the engine. "No no, don't throw anchor!" he cried, catching Rory just in time. "We just sit here idle, we don't actually use the anchor. Not on a calmer lake like this, anyway."

"Sorry, Sammy. I don't know much about boats," Rory apologized, blushing a little bit.

Sam smiled and pulled Rory's hat down over his face. "Don't worry about it. Come on, I'll show you how to ready your fishing pole and get the bait on it and stuff." Sam pulled out the two fishing rods, and carefully showed the teen how to string it up, and then hang the lure on the end.

"Okay, we take the worm out of the dirt and then squeeze him onto the hook. Careful, don't cut yourself," he warned, leading by example. Rory followed suit, making a face at the squirming worm as he impaled it on the hook.

Rod and reel in hand, Sam showed his boyfriend how to cast it into the air and over the water so that it hit a decent distance away. He then did the same with his own. "And now we just… wait," Sam said with a laugh. "It gets exciting when you get a bite."

It was only about fifteen minutes before Rory got a tug on his fishing rod. "What do I do!" he cried in alarm. Sam told him to simply reel it in slowly, not jerking on it too hard. He had it most of the way in but when the line came out of the water, the worm was gone with no fish in sight.

"Oh well, we'll get him next time. Bait up and cast again, maybe he'll come back or send one of his friends our way," Sam suggested. Rory put the worm on himself this time with no supervision, and managed to cast out on his own as well. Sam grinned, pleased that he caught on so quickly.

The boat was equipped with places to set the rods while they were waiting for the fish to bite, so they decided to enjoy the day relaxing in the sun while the fish teased their lures.

Sam offered to put some suntan lotion on Rory's back, but shortly it turned into an excuse for Sam to simply rub his hands all over the teen. The lotion was rubbed in, probably more than necessary. Rory giggled as Sam tweaked one of his nipples, running his slick hands over his thin chest.

They spent the next couple of hours fishing, having only two more bites – neither of which amounted to anything. The second bite brought in a fish that was way too small to keep, so Sam threw it back in the water.

"Let's move to another area, we'll cast off and then have some lunch. We'll catch us some dinner like real fishermen by dinnertime, I'm sure of it," Sam announced. Their second location was much more profitable than the first, netting them five fish by the time the sun was starting to set.

Lake rules stated that boats had to be off the water by dusk, so they made it just in time, before the curfew kicked in. Sam showed Rory how to clean the fish; a task neither of them found the most pleasant, but it was necessary in order to eat their catch.

Sam filleted the fish on the grill, wrapping them up in aluminum foil with special spices and sauces to give it the perfect flavor. They had some potatoes as well, and sat on the deck, eating dinner.

"That was a lot of fun, Sammy," Rory said, wiping his mouth. "I didn't know fishing was so exciting." He started to stare off out at the lake, waiting for Sam to finish up his meal.

"It's only exciting with the right company. It sucks to fish by yourself, but with you and my side, it's a blast," Sam declared, grinning between bites. "All that sun will wear you out though. I'm exhausted."

"Me too. What do ye' think of curling up on the couch with a movie?" Rory asked hopefully. After spending all day outside in the sun, he was ready to spend a little bit of time back in the house, out of the heat.

They finished up, Sam cleaning the grill while Rory did the dishes, then they stripped to their boxers and sat on the couch, turning on the TV. There wasn't anything on except for the usual pair of  _Family Guy_  episodes, so they watched those then put in another of Sam's DVD's. It took next to no time before they were both falling asleep. Sam dragged both himself and Rory up off the couch and into the bed – he didn't have the strength to carry the boy to bed this time.

Before Rory completely reached dreamland, he said a silent prayer of thanks.  _Thank you, Lord, so much. Thank you for giving us this day, this fun day, together. I know you may not agree with… us… completely, but thank you for still showing your love._

-ooo-

The next day was another filled with simple relaxation. Buzzing about on the jet skis, laying out in the sun, playing in the water. Late afternoon, they treated themselves to a leisurely boat ride around the bigger part of the lake. They didn't do anything spectacular; it was just the simplicity of it all that made it so great.

Dinner was comprised of burgers on the grill and chips. Later on they drove into town and got some ice cream, then went back home to watch TV and play some more  _FIFA_. For the cuteness factor of it all, Rory insisted they watch  _Avatar_  together snuggled up on the couch. He promptly fell asleep wrapped up in Sam's arms, finding himself in his bed when he awoke the next morning.

-ooo-

Thursday they decided to venture out into town to see if there was anything interesting going on. There was a mall, which they walked around in for a while, stopping at the food court for some pizza. Afterward they made a trip to the park not far from the mall, sitting in a gazebo not far from the lake.

"Sam, can we just stay here forever?" Rory asked, smiling, eyes brighter than they ever were back in Lima. "We can quit school, get jobs here and live in that cabin together." He looked at Sam, not just  _at_  him, but  _into_  him, and could see that such an idea broke his heart – only because he knew it wasn't possible, despite how wonderful it sounded.

"I wish we could. But… maybe someday. It's fun to think about though, isn't it?" Sam replied, his voice laced with the faintest bit of sadness. Rory put his hand on Sam's and squeezed.

"Don't be sad, Sammy. It was just me being silly," Rory apologized. "I say silly things like that sometimes." Sam smiled at him and playfully pat him on the head.

"I think it's fun to think about the future. What it might hold in store for  _us._ " Sam smiled, leaning his head back dreamily. "Yeah, who knows what our future has waiting for us."

Rory leaned over and kissed him innocently, and then rested his head on Sam's shoulder. "I like that ye' say  _our_  future. Ye' and me, together. What do ye' think will happen after I graduate?"

Sam gently stroked Rory's hair, running fingers through the dark brown threads. "I don't know. I'll already be working full time, and you'll have to get work as soon as possible, too. We'll need to figure out where to live, either way we go, there's gonna be a ton of paperwork involved."

"I don't mean that, Sam. I just mean in the future. After graduation, after the paperwork is done, after we 'ave jobs," Rory corrected. He had a certain idea in his head, but couldn't put into the right words.

"You mean marriage? Kids?" Sam asked skeptically. He looked down at his boyfriend, who had cocked head upward to look him in the eyes. He was smiling brightly at him. "Well, yeah, someday. We got a long way to go before all that, though. Besides, we can't get married anytime soon anyway."

Rory looked puzzled, as if he hadn't expected that response. "Ye' don't e'er want to?" he asked nervously.

Sam grinned like a cat. "Oh, I never said that. We just can't get married until a formal presentation has been made." He winked at him, then leaned down for another kiss. "Don't worry about that stuff yet. We're together, we're staying together. Relax, baby."

"I am getting ahead of meself, huh? I'm just in this  _place_  where I can't help but think of the happy things," Rory said, his voice airy, almost like he was high.

"That's called tranquility, Rory. For the first time since you got here, there isn't anything wrong. Nobody picking on you, or shoving you into lockers. No homework. No kids to watch. Nothing to be responsible for. Rory, you're free. That's why you feel so happy," Sam explained, grinning at him.

After a few more minutes, Sam started to adjust his posture. "Come on, get up. We're going back and getting ready," he announced. Rory sat up, a look of confusion on his face. He thought at first that perhaps Sam had told him what they were doing, and he just forgot.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy. We're doing something special tonight," Sam told him, getting up and starting toward the car.

"Wait, what are we doin'?" Rory asked, hopping on his feet to follow.

"We're going out. Don't worry, I brought you an outfit for the occasion," Sam replied confidently, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

When they got back to the cabin, Sam rummaged through one of the extra bags he brought and pulled out two sets of dress clothes. Black pants, a pale blue button down shirt for himself and a pale green for Rory, and suit-jackets. He wore a black tie for himself but had secured a bowtie for Rory. If it were up to Sam, the only kind of tie the boy would ever wear again would be a bowtie. No wonder Kurt found them so sexy on Blaine.

Rory got out of the shower, finding his outfit laid out neatly on the bed. "We're going somewhere formal?" he asked, still skeptical of what Sam had in mind. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sam, he knew Sam would never choose for them to do something lame, but he didn't want Sam spending a bunch of money on him, either.

"You'll see. It'll be fun. Promise," Sam assured him. He left Rory to finish getting ready while he went to take care of his own shower. By the time he was ready to go, he found Rory sitting outside on the deck, speaking Irish into his phone. When he noticed Sam was ready, he ended the call.

"E.T. phone home?" Sam asked playfully. Thankfully Rory understood the reference, despite being way too young to have seen E.T. in its original run. Then again, the only reason Sam even knew about E.T. was from the Disney channel reruns.

"Yeah. I haven't talked to them all week. I wanted to tell them about our vacation so far," the Irish boy explained with a smile.

"Did you get to talk to both of your folks? And Seamus?"

Rory shook his head. "I talked with me pap. Mam was heading to bed and Seamus had been asleep for an hour at least. I'm glad it was pap I talked to anyway."

"Why him in particular?" Sam asked, sitting down next to him.

"I want him to hear me voice. To hear from me that e'erything is fine. That I'm happy. And… I'm hoping that the more he hears about how much ye' make me happy, about e'erything ye' do for me, that it will make him more comfortable," Rory answered with a slight smile. "I love me pap, but he still has some adjustments to do. I don't think he e'er expected his first born to be with another man."

"At least he doesn't hate me. I mean, he did invite me to come visit, right?"

"Right. I just want him to hear e'ery good thing he can. I want him to really like ye', the way ye'r dad likes me," the boy explained. "I think he will, in time."

Sam smiled at him then stood up and held out his hand. "Alright, up and at 'em. We have reservations at six thirty." Rory took his hand and allowed himself to be helped up. Both of them double checked to make sure they had their wallets, and Sam his keys. They got in the car and sang along with the radio all the way to their destination.

-ooo-

Sam parked the car and the couple walked toward the corner of the street, where the entrance to the restaurant was. The outside was rather plain, but inside it was incredible. Vaulted ceilings, painted with artwork, potted plants hanging down from ornate ironwork. The booths were all lined with black leather cushions, the tables a dark onyx.

"Oh me god, it must cost a fortune just to look at the menu," Rory exclaimed, his voice low and filled with awe.

"Naw, it's not as bad as you think. I did my homework," Sam whispered with a sly grin.

"Good evening gentlemen. Will there be two dining tonight?" the hostess asked cheerfully. She was the most beautiful woman Sam had ever seen next to Quinn – except she had dark brown hair that hung down to her hips in long curls.

"Actually we have reservations," Sam told her. "It's under Evans-Flanagan," Sam said with a grin. Rory couldn't help but blush – somehow the sharing of their last names like that seemed so romantic.

The hostess seated them in a booth next to a window, passed out menus and began to offer the wine list. "Oh, no wine, we're both underage," Sam informed her kindly before she launched too far into her speech.

She smiled. "It's so hard to tell ages anymore, especially with two strapping lads like yourselves," she said flirtatiously. "For all I know, you could be thirty years old and just well preserved." She tittered to herself, and sauntered off to alert the waitress of their arrival.

Their waitress turned out to be a waiter – an attractive young man by the name of Marc. He couldn't be any older than twenty-five, with a build similar to Sam's. He had an alluring smile and short spiked brown hair. The man casually looked both of them over, smiling. At first glance, the smile reminded Sam of Sebastian, but as soon as Marc spoke, it broke the likeness.

Marc spoke in a very professional manner, but it was much more genuine than Sebastian's cocky attitude could ever attempt to produce. He was a nice guy, and even though he seemed to have an attraction toward the younger Irish boy (evidenced by his questions about Ireland and the melting look in his eyes when Rory spoke), but Sam didn't seem to mind.

"Are you gentlemen celebrating anything special this evening, or just having a nice night out?" Marc asked, smiling. Perhaps he was hoping to find one of them single. No such luck for him, however.

"We're here on vacation at the lake," Rory answered. "It's just us, so I guess that's occasion enough."

Marc raised an eyebrow of curiosity. "It's spring break for our high school. He needed to get away, too much stress at school, so I brought him out here for some relaxation," Sam added. "He pushes himself way too hard."

"You should both make sure to take time out to enjoy life. It's too short to work it all away," the waiter said.

Over the course of dinner, they chatted a little more with Marc and found out he was from out of town, a college student. Though he took the occasional extra glance at Rory, he made no move to flirt or stare. He was obviously a man of some respect.

When he brought the check, he thanked them for the good conversation, then lowered his voice slightly.

"You guys are really nice. I don't really have many friends here. I know you said you live several hours away, but would it be cool to just keep in touch? I don't really have anyone to talk to about…" he paused, looking around to see if anyone was listening – they weren't. "About being  _different._  You two seem so open about it. I kinda of… I'd like to know how you do it. How you're able to be that way without being afraid."

This was a totally different side of Marc than they had seen in the last hour. The confident waiter was sharing a very personal admission with two strangers, almost out of desperation.

Sam and Rory exchanged glances, Sam giving Rory silent permission. "Ye'' seem like a nice guy ye'rself, Marc. If ye' need a friend, we're happy to talk to ye'. We're kind o' new at this too. Sam's me first relationship at all, but it's been wonderful."

"Really? You guys would do that?" Marc asked, his face brightening up.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. It's been a wild ride for us, but we have some other friends who are like us, and they helped us through it. If we can give someone else some kind of support, why not? What's your number? We can text or chat online."

Marc scribbled his number on a napkin and handed it to Sam, thanking both of them profusely. It was obvious that while on the outside, he was a confident young man, inside, he was struggling deeply with his self-discovery and would benefit from some friendly advice.

"That was really nice of you to offer to talk to him, Ror," Sam told him when they got in the car. He placed his hand on top of his young lover's.

"It seemed the right thing to do. We've had it easy compared to him. We should help someone if we can. We're so lucky, if we can help someone else, we need to help them. I think that's what being Christian is all about anyway. It isn't confession, or catechism, or ceremony. It's about being good people and helping other people when we can," Rory explained with a soft smile.

Sam stared at him. It wasn't a shocked stare, or one of confusion. It was a stare that said something else, something Sam couldn't put into words. He looked at his boyfriend with eyes of the deepest respect, sincerity, and admiration.

"Why are ye' lookin' at me that way, Sammy? Did I say something wrong?" Rory asked, his own eyes turning to worry.

Sam never let his eyes falter. He smiled and shook his head slowly, losing himself in the ocean. "That's just the most selfless thing I ever heard, what you told that waiter. So… so loving."

Rory gulped, nervous for no apparent reason.

"You're so amazing. I'm so lucky. I'm in love with the most wonderful person on the face of the earth and he's sitting right here in my car," Sam gushed breathlessly.

Rory smiled, still a little thrown off at the sudden rush of emotions coming from his boyfriend. "Sam? I thought that's why ye' loved me to begin with. Because ye' felt that way about me."

"I know. I did. And I do. I will. I just, what you said, it… it made me feel so  _good_  inside. Like warmth. I can't explain it, it's so random. It reminds me of when I first knew I loved you." Sam's heart was pounding. His face was pink. He felt like everything was fresh and new again, his heart forcing him to remember just  _why_  Rory was so amazing. It was his purity of heart.

Rory just smiled, letting Sam lean down and kiss him. "Let's go back to the house. I want to hold you so bad right now. I want to  _feel_  you," Sam said, his voice not filled with lust, but with pure love and affection.

-ooo-

Overwhelmed with this sudden burst of emotion, Sam pulled into the driveway in a rush, just as rain decided to pour from the sky. It had been clouded over, but neither of them had paid attention to the weather report. It was about to get ugly outside and they had no choice but to run through the rain to get inside.

Soaked to the bone and laughing as they tumbled into the door, thunder starting to rumble behind them, they locked lips, tearing the suit jackets off of each other and tossing them to the floor. Despite their momentary urgency, as soon as they got to the living room, they had calmed down to something much tamer.

"Should we shut the curtains, Sammy?" Rory asked as they began to gently caress one another's arms and chests, knowing that they were about to get far more intimate than the public should know about.

"No. Leave it open. Nobody can see us, and it's… romantic. Raining outside, while we're nice and warm inside. All hell breaking loose out there while we have nothing but heaven in here. Yeah, romantic," Sam said wistfully.

Rory turned the lights down low in the house while Sam laid blankets and pillows down near the large sliding glass door and set a towel down as well. They were going to be completely comfortable. They began to kiss again, running fingers through each other's hair and caressing faces.

"I want to see you," Sam whispered in Rory's ear. At first, Rory was confused but then Sam clarified himself. "I want to undress you, piece by piece. I want to see  _you_." Rory smiled and kissed him again, letting Sam carefully pull each item of clothing off of him.

Sam unbuttoned the boy's shirt and pulled it open, letting it fall off his shoulders. Next came the buckle on his belt and his pants met the floor. Sam knelt down and removed his socks and tossed the pants aside, then gently removed his boyfriend's underwear. Rory stood before him, completely nude, and damp from the rain.

"I've never seen anyone look so beautiful. I can't tell you that enough," Sam said softly, his voice shaking slightly. "No girl or woman could  _ever_  compare to you."

Rory blushed, Sam's words warming his heart as they always did when Sam gushed over him. He was a little chilly as the cool air touched his damp body, but Sam quickly covered him with the towel and patted him dry from head to toe.

"I want to undress ye', too," Rory admitted, reaching forward to unbutton Sam's shirt. Sam allowed him to, the boy sliding his hands behind his back and peeling the shirt off of him. Rory let his fingertips brush over Sam's tight abs, gently tugging on the light blonde hairs under his navel, disappearing into his pants.

"Take my pants off, Rory," Sam whispered. "Please. I want to be bare for you." Rory quietly complied, removing the remainder of Sam's clothes in the same manner the older boy had done for him. He patted his boyfriend down with the towel, then wrapped his arms around him and pressed their bodies together.

They were both so warm in each other's arms. Normally, they touched each other with such hunger, such hormonal desire, that it was wild, but now, their touches were gentle, slow, intimate. This wasn't the two of them having sex this time. They were going to  _make love._

Holding their bodies close together, Sam led the two of them to the floor, putting Rory on his back. He continued to kiss him, gently, not hungrily. He ran his fingers over the teen's chest, brushing over his nipples, eliciting a quiet cry of pleasure. Sam smiled and started to nuzzle his chest with his nose, the way a pet would. Unlike a pet, however, he kissed his neck, down to his chest.

"I didn't notice before, but your chest is filling out a little. Must be all the swimming, building some muscle on you," Sam observed, taking a moment to tenderly massage the newly formed pectorals. "It's subtle. I like it."

Rory smiled but changed his expression to one of surprise when he suddenly felt Sam nip at his nipple, and then the other. He then licked a trail down past his navel and to the thatch of hair down below. Sam inhaled deeply, the scent intoxicating.

He started planting kisses on his skin again, on his inner thighs, everywhere except his manhood. Sam nuzzled his head against Rory's groin, the hairs tickling his cheek, his tongue finally flicking out for just a moment to tease the plump shaft before him.

Not being able to hold back anymore, Sam took the teen's stiffness all the way into his mouth, wrapping his thick lips around the base. Rory let out a soft moan at the sudden sensation of being engulfed in Sam's hot, wet mouth, his tongue flicking back and forth, pushing the foreskin up and down, massaging the base. It was magical the way Sam's tongue worked on him.

The pleasure Sam was giving his boyfriend was so intense that he felt ready to finish at any moment. Sam didn't want that. He had other plans. Straddling the boy, he wiggled himself up to place his erection in front of Rory's face, his balls right on his lips. Rory took the orbs into his mouth one at a time, massaging them, licking them, sucking them, all the while Sam slowly stroked himself. Starting to feel close to the edge himself, he dismounted him, and lay right beside him, tracing lines up and down his body.

"I want you, Rory," Sam said seductively. "I want every bit of you. Every inch, inside of me," he whispered in his ear. Aside from the one time Sam rode him in the tub months before, the older teen had never shown an interest in receiving.

"Do ye' mean…?"

"Yes, Rory. I want to feel you  _inside_  me. The way I'm always inside  _you,"_  Sam clarified, looking him in the eyes.

"Are ye' sure? I thought ye' didn't much like that," Rory asked, his body trembling with excitement at the idea. He loved feeling Sam's large endowment penetrating him, the way it made him feel like they were one, but he also had a strong desire to be inside of him as well, but he knew that it wasn't Sam's cup of tea. He had tried it and it was 'ok', but he preferred not to.

"Right now, I want you inside me, Rory. I want you to feel what I feel when I'm inside of you," Sam replied breathlessly.

Rory looked a little skeptical, but his attention was drawn elsewhere as Sam started to slowly stroke his dick again. "A-are ye' really sure? I don't want ye' to do something ye' don't want to do," the teen argued.

"I want it, Rory. I want you. My pleasure will come from knowing how much you like it, from seeing the reactions you have to the sensations. My pleasure will come from making you crave me," Sam insisted. "Please, Rory. Don't deny me."

_Who can argue with that?_  Rory thought. "Okay, Sammy. But promise me ye'll tell me to stop if it hurts," he said, his tone firm and excited at the same time.

Sam fished behind the pillow and pulled out a bottle of lubricant. It was the jelly kind – it worked much better for them than the watery stuff that only served to make a mess. Sam handed the bottle to Rory, looking him deep in his eyes.

"I want you completely in charge. I trust you." He could see the fear in Rory's eyes – fear that he would hurt Sam. It didn't bother him when Sam was taking the lead – if Sam hurt him, it was okay, because it was  _Sam,_  and Rory felt that anything Sam did to him was done out of pure love. But he couldn't bring himself to handle the emotional turmoil of hurting Sam himself, even if by accident.

"Sam, I… I don't want to hurt you. I'm not sure I can-" Sam stopped him by placing his finger over Rory's lips. He stared him right in the eyes again, not even blinking.

"Rory, I love you, and I trust you. I  _know_  you won't hurt me. Have confidence in yourself. We've done this plenty of times now, it's just reversing the roles. Just go slow and be gentle, which I know you will," Sam insisted. There was no way he would let Rory back out of this from apprehension.

Sam saw Rory start to hesitate, so he simply repeated his words, "I trust you."

Nervous, yet eager, Rory slathered his finger with the clear gel, then pressed his finger down between Sam's legs. Sam giggled at the tickle of the cold on his rear. He could feel Rory's small finger drawing circles over top of his tight opening, It was an odd sensation, but arousing all the still.

"Go ahead," Sam encouraged as he felt Rory pressing the tip of his finger harder, trying to gain entry. Sam breathed in deep and forced himself to relax, the muscle giving way just enough to let the slender finger inside.

Rory slid his finger in just a little deeper than he meant to, and panicked just slightly when Sam let out a soft moan. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Rory cried, worried he had hurt him. He started to pull his hand back, but Sam stopped him.

"No, it just surprised me. It felt good. Do it again," Sam said. When Rory didn't move, he took his wrist and guided it back down, pushing the trembling finger deeper inside again. "You can go deeper." So Rory went deeper. He felt his fingertip hit something firm and smooth and when he touched it, Sam shivered and let out a tiny cry of pleasure.

"That's ye'r special spot, isn't it?" Rory asked with a grin.

"Mhmm. You can do like I do to you. Rub your finger over it, press against it. Do what you like me to do to you," Sam instructed, holding on to the boy's wrist.

Rory gulped and nodded his head, keeping his finger inside. He did just as Sam told him, rubbing his finger back and forth, all around that oh so special spot. Sam began to squirm, his breaths coming faster, more ragged.

"You can put in another finger, it's okay," Sam told him. Rory didn't say anything but just lubed up another finger, and gently slid it in next to his first. He felt Sam tense up a little bit, but Sam caressed his face with the back of his hand, letting him know he was fine.

By the time Sam gave him the green light for a third finger, Rory had finally convinced himself he wouldn't hurt Sam – at least not with his fingers. He had sort of small hands, and the more he thought about it, the more it worried him that he might injure him when he went to mount him.

"Don't be scared, baby. I'll be fine. Just take it slow," Sam assured him. "I'll stay on my back, so I can watch your face. I want to see how it feels for you."

Rory blushed slightly, the idea of his own face during sex a little laughable. Nobody ever made attractive sex-faces, but for some reason Sam wanted to see him, so he obliged. Sam stayed on his back and gently slung his legs up over Rory's shoulders. Rory reached down and lubed himself up, and added some more to Sam's tender opening. He then very slowly guided himself toward his older lover, and pushed.

Sam bit his bottom lip as the sensation of being opened up to his limits started to settle in. Rory was bigger than just three fingers, and Sam could feel every bit of it. Rory looked into his eyes for approval and Sam nodded slightly. He willed himself to loosen up for him, to bear the pain.

Rory continued to push, sliding in inch by inch until both he and Sam were surprised to find he was all the way inside. "Just stay right there a moment. I'll tell you when you can start moving," Sam said softly, trying to mask the pain in his voice but falling just short. The pain was settling from a burn to a dull throb. Even if the pain never subsided, he was determined to see this through.

"Sam, I'm hurting ye'," Rory stated, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm gonna stop." As he started to pull back, Sam reached back and held him still.

"No. Don't stop. I want you," Sam insisted. "Go ahead, push back in, and then start a slow rhythm, like I do with you."

Rory gulped but nodded his head. The sensation of burying himself deep inside his boyfriend was amazing. Nothing he had ever felt before. It was a completely different feeling that when he was the one being penetrated, as if the pleasure was coming from an entirely different place. He started to get his rhythm going, Sam starting to moan.

"That's good, baby. That's real good. You can speed up if you want to," Sam assured him. Rory started to speed up, and within a couple more minutes, he sped up some more until he was subconsciously going faster and harder.

"Are ye' okay Sammy?" he asked between deep breaths. By this point, the pain had indeed subsided and was replaced by pleasure as Sam felt Rory's pulsing rod slammed into his prostate over and over.

"I'm good! Keep going!" Sam said, grinding his rear so that he was meeting Rory's thrusts, causing him to drive in deeper. With one hand he started to stroke himself, with the other, he was reaching up to touch Rory's chest. They were both sweating like crazy, the sheen shining in the flashes from the lightning through the window.

Rory thrust his hips in faster and faster than he ever thought he could. He kept his hands around Sam's hips, keeping him still. "Sam, I think I'm very close," Rory told him.

"Go ahead when you're ready. Don't stop. I want you to know how it feels," Sam ordered between moans. He was stroking himself vigorously, bringing himself close as well.

Rory started to convulse with fits of pleasure as his orgasm took over his body, pouring his seed deep into Sam's insides. As he shot, he leaned down and locked lips with Sam, both of them moaning into each other's mouths as Sam went over the edge as well, the stickiness threading between their stomachs. A few more spasms and he finished unloading inside his boyfriend and allowed himself to slide out and collapse on top of him.

Sam held him tight, both of them covered in sweat and semen, out of breath and exhausted. "That was amazing, Sammy. I can't say how great it was."

"I loved it, baby. You were so good," Sam whispered. His voice was almost drowned out by the loud thunderclaps outside.

"I love ye' so much, Sammy. Thank ye'," Rory said, burying his head in Sam's neck.

"Anything for my boyfriend.  _Anything_ ,"Sam emphasized. "I'll give you anything you want to make you happy." His face was awash with affection and happiness.

"Ye' already give me what I want. Ye'r love," Rory replied with a smile. The pair laid there and snuggled for what seemed like an hour, watching the rain and the flashes of light outside. They finally fell asleep in a sticky mess, but they were the happiest couple in the world at the time.

 


	22. Episode 22: Game Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: So this should have been the final episode of the season. Turns out, it's going on longer than I thought, so until we see Sam's Birthday, Prom, and Nationals, I gotta keep it going Thank you everyone for your support, otherwise I never would have made it this far, or farther._ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality

**Recap:**  Sam took Rory on a special vacation near Lake Erie, where they stayed in a cabin for a whole week all by themselves, fishing, swimming, boating, and more. They even dressed up in formal wear to out to dinner just to feel special, then Sam did something unexpected and enticed Rory into trying something new in bed and boy are they both glad he did and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 22: Game Over**

The warm sun shone in through the still open glass doors, bathing Sam and Rory in light. Sam looked over at his boyfriend, nude, laying on his side, a peaceful look on his face. He was about to getup when the boy stirred, flopping over onto his back and opening his eyes. Rory smiled at him upon seeing his eyes sparkling in the reflected light.

"How do ye' feel this morning, Sammy?" Rory asked, recalling how he had ached the next day after taking Sam inside him for the first time.

"A little sore, but good. I'm happy," he replied, dragging the back of his hand across Rory's lips. "Are you?"

Rory sat up, leaning up against Sam, nodding his head against his broad chest. "O' course, I'm happy, Sammy," he said, a smile on his face. He looked up and kissed him. "I'm here with ye', that always makes me happy."

After a moment of silent contentment in their memories of the night before, reality decided to ooze its way back in. "We 'ave to go back today, don't we?" Rory asked, his voice colored with disappointment.

"Yeah. It sucks, doesn't it? We don't have to leave until later this afternoon. We have time." Sam smiled again and leaned over to kiss the teenager. "Let's go take a shower. Still kinda sticky."

They both laughed and dragged themselves up off the floor, walking to the bathroom. They showered together, cleaning each other off gently, kissing in between, but their bodies too worn out to even think of misbehaving.

The ride back home was comfortably quiet. They were both complacent, smiles on their faces, holding hands as Sam drove. Every now and then they would find a song on the radio to sing to, but otherwise, they didn't need to make small talk.

-ooo-

"We're home!" Sam announced as they shuffled through the front door. His parents were sitting on the couch watching TV while the kids were playing in their rooms. As soon as they heard Sam's voice, the two children bee-lined for the door, throwing their arms around their big brother.

"Sammy! Mr. Rory! Yay!" Stacy squealed. "I missed you!" She unlatched her arms from around Sam only to clasp her arms right back around Rory.

"I missed ye' too," Rory said, ruffling her hair.

"So how was your vacation?" Mrs. Evans asked, getting up to hug the boys herself.

Both boys were grinning, and started rattling off details of what they did, from the jet ski racing, to the fishing trip, to the encounter with the waiter at the restaurant. They even both pulled out their cell phones, showing off pictures they took.

"I want  _that_  one!" Mrs. Evans said, pointing to one of the pictures on Sam's phone. It was one they had set the timer on so it could snap both of them – standing together, holding their catch from the fishing trip in front of the boat.

"I'll send it to you, mom," Sam said, smiling. He liked the picture, too. He set it as his phone background while he had it on his mind. "Can you print an extra copy for me? I wanna put it in my locker."

His mother nodded and squealed in girlish glee. "My boys are so handsome. Their first vacation together!"

Mr. Evans grinned at the two teens. "I'm glad you guys had fun. It's about time you had some R and R."

Rory was sitting in the floor, Stacy and Stevie all over him, as he showed them his pictures. Stacy was making disgusted noises when she saw the pictures of the fish, but Stevie found it incredibly interesting. The little girl was much more entertained by the scenery instead.

"Hey Ror, I'm gonna bring in the bags. Do you mind helping me?" Sam asked, attempting to rescue his boyfriend from being overwhelmed by two excited children practically crawling on top of him to get glimpses of the photos.

"Sure, Sammy. Be right there," the Irish lad replied. He got up and started to put his phone away, but Stevie asked if they could play with it and see the rest of the pictures. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'll show ye' the rest later," Rory stated, remembering that he had taken a few rather suggestive pictures of Sam goofing around. It wasn't like he was naked, but Sam had been posing for the pictures, the waistband of his boxers just  _barely_  covering the essentials.

As they were walking to the car, Sam whispered to him, "You don't still have those pictures, do you?"

Rory gave him a fiendish grin and held up his phone. "Why do ye' think I wasn't about to let them alone with me phone, Sammy? I don't want them to see their big brother looking so sexy. That's for me eyes only," he teased. He gave the older teen a quick kiss on the cheek before they started to unpack the car.

Within an hour, they had unpacked everything, piling their clothes in the laundry hamper for later. By then, dinner was just about ready, where they finished talking about their trip and catching up.

"Well, now that you boys have had your spotlight all night, it's time your mother got some attention," Mr. Evans announced during a short lull in the conversation.

"What happened, mom? You have some news for us?" Sam asked, hopefully. She had been in the running for a promotion for two months, and the competition was tough. Mrs. Evans let the smile turning up on her lips give her away.

Sam met his mother's eyes, a smile spreading across his own face. She started to nod her head quickly, her eyes lighting up. "Yes. Yes, honey. I got the promotion!" The two children started to squeal in excitement, even though they already knew about it.

"I'm so happy for you, mom! That's awesome!" Sam exclaimed, getting up and hugging her. Rory did the same, happy for his host mother. He hadn't seen her so delighted since they met.

After the excitement died down, she proceeded to tell them about her new position and what it would entail, as well as how it was going to benefit the family financially. They were already doing rather well since moving back to Lima; this would only make things even better

-ooo-

Monday brought with it the reality that Spring Break was officially over. Despite the fact that everyone had a week to rest, half the students returned looking incredibly tired. Sam had long ago theorized that no matter how well rested someone was, the second they set foot in a school, all their energy was zapped from them until gym class.

At lunch, the boys regaled their usual lunch group with the tales of their vacation. Kurt and Blaine took particular interest in the encounter with Marc, the waiter.

"I'm really proud of you guys for what you did for that guy. Even just offering to stay in touch was something that might make a big difference for him. Sometimes all you need is someone to talk to when you're dealing with this heavy stuff," Blaine commented, exchanging glances with Kurt.

"I agree with Blaine. That was wonderful. We have to stick together," Kurt said, putting his hand on Blaine's and smiling at him. Apparently the couple had spent the entirety of their spring break watching Broadway Theater on DVD and practicing songs. At least Mike went to Las Vegas, with his family and Tina had done some volunteer work at the animal shelter. Rachel and Finn had spent the better part of their break looking at wedding plans and formal wear for the event in question.

-ooo-

Rory knocked on Coach Beiste's office door, waiting for her to invite him in. Her face brightened up in a big grin when she saw that it was her favorite Irishman coming to visit.

"Good to see you, Flanagan. How was your break?" Coach Beiste asked, motioning for him to take a seat. He quickly gave her a summary of their trip to the lake, keeping it short and sweet.

"I wanted to talk to ye' about returning to regular gym class," Rory said. Ever since the big incident with Azimio and his near passing out, Coach Beiste had excused him to study hall indefinitely. "I think I'm ready to come back."

The coach was skeptical. She had heard about his episode when he tried to enter the gym months before, and wasn't too thrilled about the possibility of a repeat.

"Me dad says I can't let this thing run me life, coach. I 'ave to confront it, face me fears, he said. Ye' understand, right?" the boy asked, confident in his request to return, pride in his voice as he heeded the advice of Mr. Evans.

The burly woman scratched her chin, considering his request. She had a soft spot for the kid, else she never would have allowed him to miss so much gym, but seeing him come to her with such confidence, it was inspiring.

"All right, Flanagan. You can come back, on one condition," the coach began, looking him in the eye. "If you start to have flashbacks, or feel faint, or anything like that, you let me know right away and we'll take care of it."

The teen nodded his head politely. "Yes, ma'am. I don't think it will be a problem." He was smiling at her, the look in his eyes filled with resolve. He was determined to face his fears and apprehension.

"Do one thing for me, though, Flanagan. Go out to that gym, make sure you're gonna feel okay in there. Make sure it doesn't trigger you or something. You manage that and you're back in the class."

He agreed, and the coach asked him about his progress with the swim team, how he enjoyed coach Roz, and what he planned to do when the school year ended.

-ooo-

Rory was curled up on the bed, reading a book, and listening to his iPod, when Sam came home from work. He was so engrossed in what he was reading he didn't even realize anyone had entered the room until a red polo shirt plopped down in front of him, smelling of pizza grease.

"Oh, hey Sammy! I didn't hear ye' come in," Rory said, throwing the shirt aside and sitting up. Sam leaned down to give him a quick kiss, then continued to undress. "So how was ye'r work today?"

Sam shrugged. "Same as always, baby. Nothing ever changes there." He plucked a fresh pair of boxers from the dresser and excused himself to the shower. He couldn't stand the lingering scent of grease that seemed to glue itself to his hair and skin. When he came back in, Rory was right back to where he had been before, this time not noticing his return until a towel fell in front of him.

Rory looked up to see Sam in his boxers, grinning. He popped out his earbuds and smiled up at him. "Did ye' make sure and ask for next Saturday off?" he inquired.

"Sure did," Sam replied, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend again. "I'm all yours next weekend." Rory sat up and clapped, imitating Stacy when she was excited about something. "What's so special about next weekend anyway?"

"Hmm, I don't know. I think me boyfriend turns nineteen or something. Either that or me visa expires then, I forget," Rory teased. Sam gave him a chuckle and a grin and sat down next to him.

"You know you don't have to do anything for me, Ror. Just spending the day right here with you is plenty for me," Sam told him, stroking his hand.

Rory shook his head. "Don't argue. I want to do something fun for ye'r birthday, and that's what we're goin' to do. It won't be a vacation like we had last month, but it'll be fun anyway."

Sam kissed him on the forehead. "I'm sure whatever you come up with will be perfect," he said, picking up the novel Rory had been reading and looking it over. "Okay, either my dyslexia is getting a lot worse, or this isn't in English."

They shared a laugh as Rory took it back from him. "It's in Gaelic. I try to read one e'ery now and then, to keep me skills up. We don't really use it much at home, though," he explained.

"So… you speak Irish at home but you don't write it? That doesn't make a lot of sense, does it?" Sam asked, scratching his head.

"Me pap insists on keeping up with the heritage. It's more common to hear English spoken at home, but in our house, me pap wants us to use Irish most o' the time. I can't say it makes a lot of sense, but it's pap's rule." Rory shrugged it off, not thinking much else of it.

"Hey, write your name in Irish! I wanna see what it looks like," Sam suggested, reaching toward his backpack and pulling out a notebook. "Here, I wanna see!"

Rory took the offered paper and wrote down his name, in native Irish. Sam cocked his head. "That's too many letters!"

Rory laughed. "No, it isn't. Gaelic doesn't 'ave all the same letters. Me name is spelled different in Gaelic. See, 'R-U-A-R-I'," he explained, pointing at the letters. "Trust me, ye'r reading handicap would play hell with it."

"I'll take your word for it," Sam said. He pulled back the covers and slid under the blanket. "I'm exhausted. Turn out the light when you're done, okay?" Rory kissed him one last time before getting up and turning out the light. He played a game on his iPod for a short while before finally heading to sleep himself.

_I can't wait for next weekend. We are gonna have so much fun! Sam is going to be thrilled, I know it!_  Rory thought as his eyes fluttered shut.

-ooo-

Sam was sleeping hard. Friday night he had stayed up late after getting home from work, doing the little bit of homework he had (at Rory's insistence, of course), and playing entirely too many rounds of  _Mario Kart_. Sleeping in was one of the few pleasures he had on the weekends, so needless to say he wasn't the too thrilled about being woken up at seven thirty on a Saturday.

"Sammy! Wake up! Wake up Sammy!" came the high pitched squeals of Stacy Evans. Her brother was busy trying to shake him awake, the pair of them urging him out of his slumber.

"Agh! Come  _on_  guys! Give a guy a break already!" Sam grumbled, grabbing his pillow and pulling it over his head. That didn't last long, however, as he soon felt someone yank the pillow from his fingers with strength that was definitely not from the kids.

"They said 'Wake up, Sammy!' so wake up!" Rory giggled, joining Stevie in shaking him.

Sam whined. He hated being woken up, and right now, he had three of his favorite people trying to do just that. "Let me sleep just a little longer…." He begged.

"Nope. Rise and shine, sunshine. We 'ave a busy day ahead of us. Breakfast is almost ready," Rory informed him, grabbing his hand and tugging until he finally sat up. Sam wiped his eyes and scrunched up his face.

"It's Saturday, Ror. Can't we take it easy? It's been a long week," Sam complained as the two kids bounded up in the bed next to him.

"No, Sammy! Mr. Rory has lots for you to do today! He said you have to get up!" Stacy demanded in a semi-playful tone.

Sam leaned his head back and let out another soft whine. "You sure I can't get just a half hour more?"

Rory crossed his arms. "Nope. Looks like he's gonna be hard headed. Stevie, ye' know what to do." His lips turned up into a sly grin, nodding at the young boy to begin his task.

Stevie started pushing on his older brother with all his might, and when that didn't work, he hopped out of the bed and yanked on his legs. "Come on, Sam! Mr. Rory said  _get up!_ " the youth insisted. His last resort was to start yanking on Sam's arm, propping his feet against the side of the bed to give him leverage. This finally got Sam to get out of bed, the young boy flopping onto the floor.

"That's better," Rory stated, smirking. He kissed Sam on the cheek and tossed him a tee shirt. "Come on, we eat, and then ye' need to shower and get ready. Blaine and Kurt will be here in an hour to pick us up." He had the authoritative tone in his voice that the kids were familiar with – the tone of a man not to be argued with.

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled on his shirt. "Why are Blaine and Kurt coming over? Where are we going?" Both kids started giggling hysterically. Obviously, they were in on the big secret.

"Ye'll find out," Rory said, turning on his heel and marching out of the room. "Soldiers, don't let him straggle."

"Yes, sir!" both children said in unison, giving him salutes. It still amazed Sam just how well Rory and the kids got along. They obeyed almost everything he told them to do, having some sort of deep respect for their older friend. Maybe they just liked him, or maybe they were so respectful because he was important to Sam. No, that wasn't it. They genuinely liked Rory, whether he was Sam's boyfriend or not.

Stacy got behind Sam and started pushing on his rear, guiding him to the door. "Okay, okay, I'm going. Mission accomplished," Sam argued. It did no good as the little girl pushed him all the way to the kitchen where his parents were already sitting down, and Rory was setting a plate at his place setting.

"Have a seat, Sammy. Eat up, ye' need ye'r energy today," Rory told him. He made sure both kids were set with food and juice and then sat down himself. One thing Sam never had to be told twice was to eat. Despite his muscular figure, he managed to still put away a healthy amount of food.

Sam finally stopped asking what was up when both of his parents and the kids continued to giggle without giving answers. They had idle small talk until they were finished, Rory ushering Sam to get his shower.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Rory was busy doing something on his laptop, stopping and watching Sam the moment he entered the room. The older boy picked out his clothes and started to get dressed when he noticed Rory staring at him.

"What? Why are you staring?" Sam asked playfully, pulling up his boxers.

"Nothing. I just like watching ye'," Rory answered, smiling.

Sam grinned. "You mean you just like seeing me get dressed? Or undressed?" he teased, dropping his boxers and showing his rear before quickly pulling them, and a pair of jeans, back up.

"No. I just like watching ye' in general. 'Aven't ye' noticed before?" Rory asked, still not returning to his activity.

Sam shrugged. "I guess."

"Stop bein' silly and just let me look at ye'." The Irish boy finally got up and ruffled Sam's damp hair. He kissed him on the cheek again and then dug around in his dresser drawer until he found whatever it was he was searching for.

"Happy Birthday, Sammy," the teen said, handing Sam a card. It was blue, with Sam's name written on the front in Rory's fancy cursive writing. Sam opened it up, giggling at the card. It was one that was custom made on a computer. Rory had used a photo of the two of them from the lake, except he had adjusted the coloring to turn their skin blue, like the Na'vi.

"Now  _that_  gets one hundred points for originality right there," Sam said, kissing Rory before opening the card and reading it.

_Sammy,_

_I hate writing in cards because I always say what I feel to you out loud, but I guess I can just make sure you know how awesome you are in writing. Our vacation was amazing. I have never been so happy and at peace. I love being with you, and I am proud to be your boyfriend. Your graduation isn't that far away, which means summer is coming, and your visit to Ireland. I can't wait to show you what my home is like! When I get back, we're going to have the best year yet, I promise. I want to be with you for good, and I want to work toward figuring things out for the future. I love you so very much and you are always with me in my heart._

_Love always,_

_Rory_

Sam read it over twice, taking extra care to focus on each word the second time around. It brought tears to his eyes – the honesty and heartfelt sentiments expressed by his boyfriend. His boyfriend who was making it all the more apparent that he wanted to someday be more than just a boyfriend.

"Thank you, Ror. Thank you, so much," the blonde said, hugging the younger teen tight and kissing the top of his head. "That means a lot," he added. He sniffled and grabbed a tissue off the desk and wiped his eyes. "Damned dust, getting in my eyes again."

Rory winked at him and pulled something else from the dresser drawer. As usual, it was a small box, but this one wasn't a Rubik's Cube. Sam recognized it from the  _Hellraiser_ movies as the puzzle box that, when solved, would summon the Cenobites.

"Interesting box. Where'd you get that? It's not gonna summon demons or anything when I open it is it?" Sam asked, nervously turning the sides of the gold colored aluminum cube.

"No, why would ye' say that? I thought it was pretty meself. Shiny and intricate carvings," Rory explained.

Sam grinned. "It's a repilica of the box from  _Hellraiser._  It summons demons." Sam paused and then added, with a naughty grin, " _Sex_  demons."

Rory scratched his head. "Oh. Well if I knew that, I might have chosen a better box."

"No, I like it. You picked it out, and it's cute that you didn't know what it was from," Sam replied, twisting the box again. It finally popped open, something the size of a credit card dropping out. Sam bent down and picked it up.

"A season pass for King's Island? Holy shit, those are expensive! You didn't need to do that!" the now nineteen year old exclaimed. "Wait, this isn't the one you won, is it?" He looked at Rory with an air of suspicion.

Rory shook his head. "No. I 'ave that one, but what good is a pass if ye' don't 'ave anyone to go with? And who else would I want to go with but me Sammy?" Rory replied, smiling. "Ye' better put it in ye'r wallet right away. Ye'r gonna need it today."

Sam's eyes lit up with excitement. "Wait, today? You mean that's what we're doing today?" He looked like a little kid, jumping up and down in glee. "I haven't been there in years! Oh my god, this is gonna be so much fun! Thank you so much!"

Rory kissed him, and then put the card in Sam's wallet himself to make sure he didn't forget it. A moment later, the doorbell rang. Their ride had arrived.

-ooo-

The drive was just shy of two hours, thanks to Blaine's less than legal driving speed. The group of friends sang along to the radio most of the way, and also shared the latest gossip. Neither Sam nor Rory kept up much with the glee club drama, but Kurt was info central in that arena.

Parking was atrocious, but by the time they got in, there was nothing but excitement. For the first time in years, Kurt actually had on sneakers, much to his chagrin.  _"Your feet will thank you by the end of the day,"_  Blaine had told him.

Their first stop was the giant tower near the front entrance that took them up high enough to see the entire park from the top. Sam pointed excitedly from ride to ride, exclaiming which one he wanted to ride next. The park was mostly roller coasters – long snakes of steel and wood traveling all over the park.

Deciding to be brave, Sam elected to hunt down the biggest wooden roller coaster in the country – The Beast – and tackle it first. None of them had ever been on a wooden coaster before, and after the incredibly rough ride, Sam was the only one who had a desire to ever ride one again.

"I felt like my brain was being vibrated out through my ears," Blaine complained. "I've never been on a ride that rowdy before." He held his head and rubbed his temples dramatically while Kurt patted him on the head.

"Now I know why there aren't many of those left in the country. If a woodpecker got angry, we would all have died horribly," Kurt noted.

Sam beamed. "I thought it was fun! And it's the biggest anywhere! How many people can say they've ridden the biggest wooden wonder in the country?"

Rory went into peals of laughter, which Blaine shortly joined in on. Sam and Kurt looked at them as if they were bonkers. "Uh, what did I miss?" Sam asked, exchanging a confused look with his friend.

"Biggest wooden wonder? Really Sammy? I 'ave to explain that one?" Sam still looked clueless. "Put ye'r mind in the trash," Rory hinted. After a moment it dawned on Sam exactly what the insinuation was and he turned bright red.

"Aaaaand on to the next… coaster," Sam said, choosing his words carefully. At that moment he knew if he said 'ride', it would only add fuel to the flames of laughter.

The foursome stopped around one to grab some food – Kurt a little displeased at the so-called 'cuisine' of a theme park, but settling for a chicken sandwich anyway. After that were a couple more roller coasters. They then saw a sign for 'The Crypt', which described the ride as something incredibly amazing, scary, and in the dark.

"Can we go on that, Sammy?" Rory begged, tugging on his arm. "Please, please, please? It sounds like it'd be fun!"

Sam smiled at him and agreed that it sounded fun, and a change of pace from the racing steel cars. It really was a ride in the dark – several rows of seats that harnessed them to a huge moving gondola. When it began there was nothing but darkness followed by random strobe lights flashing as the gondola was spun upside down, in circles, and every which way.

By the time the ride ended, Kurt high-tailed it to the nearest bathroom, Blaine hot on his heels. Apparently it was a little too much for them. When they returned, they were both visibly less green.

"We still have a bunch of rides left, don't crap out on us!" Sam pleaded. The next two rides, the ailing pair sat out on, opting to tour the nearby gardens instead. When they finally felt better, they rejoined their party and went back to riding.

By the end of the afternoon, they had ridden all but two roller coasters, and most of the regular rides as well. They had been drenched and dried out (well, all but Kurt, who refused to ride the water rides and get wet at any cost), and by eight they were exhausted.

They stopped for a quick tour through the shops on the main street, Rory purchasing two hats shaped like fish for the kids. It would give them a thrill to run around the house squealing about trout, fish, and trouty mouth.

After a relaxing dinner at a local steakhouse, they headed back home. Rory fell asleep, laying on his side with his head in Sam's lap. Kurt drove while Blaine snored in the passenger seat. The silence was comfortable – the silence of four tired out teenagers after a day of fun.

Sam was tempted to carry Rory into the house, but he was far too tired to lift the boy. "Come on sleepy head, wake up. Party's over," he said, shaking his boyfriend from his peaceful slumber.

When they got in the bedroom, it was all Rory could do to undress himself for bed. "Did ye' have fun, Sammy?" he yawned.

"I had a blast. You're the best boyfriend I ever had!" Sam exclaimed with the last of his energy.

"I'm the only boyfriend ye' ever had," the Irishman teased back.

"Even better. It means I didn't have to waste time on a bunch of boys that aren't as great as you are," Sam replied, grinning. He had gotten a sudden surge of energy, a second wind, but Rory was obviously so exhausted he would be out within minutes.

Sam curled up on his side of the bed and started playing a video game, keeping the volume low so Rory could sleep. Three hours later, Sam was passed out on the bed, snoring away, the game stuck at the "Game Over" screen, the controller upside down on the floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _-ooo-_
> 
> _Author's Notes: Well folks, this is where the first season was originally supposed to end - 22 episodes just like a TV series. We still got a few things to go though – Prom, Nationals, and Graduation, soooo three more episodes! Have no fear, however, as that does not mean the end of the story! There will be a second season, stay tuned for details after chapter 25! If there is something in particular you would like to see happen with our boys next season, by all means send me a message or leave it in a review! I am always open to ideas, especially if I get stuck somewhere with writer's block._


	23. Episode 23: The Prom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Ah, the prom, an event I missed in my own high school years. I didn't have a date so I didn't go. I remember a friend of mine was a lesbian and had a girlfriend and the school threw them out of the prom (it was a Catholic high school) so they ended up going to hang out at Wal-Mart in their prom dresses. I have no idea why I felt the need to share that, it was just a funny story._ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality, my fellow Sorysexual. This chapter would have severely sucked without her help. Having never been to prom or a school dance, I had little to reference and she really helped fill that lack of knowledge. As always, thank you!

**Recap:**  It was Sam's brithday, so he thought he might get a chance to sleep in, but Rory had other plans. They went to the amusement park with Blaine and Kurt and happened to be the only two who didn't get sick on a ride. They had a blast even if Kurt refused to get wet, and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 23: The Prom**

Mr. Schuester wrote a single word on the white board in the choir room:

PROM

"One of the biggest events in a teenager's high school experience is their prom. The one major event where everyone shows up in their most awesome outfits, dancing the night away with their honeys," Mr. Schue said, smiling and pacing in front of the board.

"Last year, the musical entertainment was us, because the school had no money. This year, we're going to do something different. We're going to have a DJ, but we're also going to perform."

There was a mixture of groans and cheers as they recalled the previous year's prom. Performing hadn't been that bad, but it was still a hassle when all anyone wanted to do was let loose and have fun, and then there was the whole episode with Kurt and the prom queen votes.

"Settle down, settle down, guys. It's not that bad. We're only doing a couple of numbers, and it'll be fun. Much better than last year," Mr. Schue told them. They quieted down some, but it still wasn't the best news.

After discussing possible song choices, the club dismissed for the afternoon. Girls were already huddled together discussing their dresses and plans for the sacred evening, while the guys mulled about, trying to tear their girlfriends away from the mob.

It was already a given who most of the students were attending with – Mike and Tina, Rachel and Finn, Kurt and Blaine, Mercedes and Shane, Brittany and Santana. As Rory listened to the couples discuss their plans for prom, he thought idly about whether or not Sam even wanted to go. He hadn't mentioned anything about it, so Rory had just assumed he wasn't interested. The thought of missing prom was a little disappointing, but he was sure that, if they were going to skip the event, Sam at least had something else planned. The idea of spending an evening with Sam, just the two of them, was enough to soften the blow, even if it didn't entirely erase the sting of missing prom.

Never missing a chance to brag to a hapless victim, Puck noticed Rory wasn't engaged in conversation, but merely eavesdropping on everyone else's plans. That left Rory getting stuck listening to Puck talk about his list of eligible teen girls he planned on bringing (according to Puck, he would have no less than four dates) when Sam tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt," Sam said, much to Rory's relief. The young teen was tired of hearing about Puck's supposed girlfriends, and wanted to just tell him to shut up and take Quinn.

Rory turned to face his boyfriend, his face lighting up as he took in the blonde's shy expression. Sam shifted nervously, shuffling his feet.

"Hey, Sammy," Rory said brightly, reaching to take his boyfriend's hand.

"Hey, Ror," Sam mumbled, his cheeks flushing crimson. He cleared his throat and continued. "So, uh, Rory, would you go to prom with me?" Sam asked, looking at his feet nervously.

_Why the hell am I nervous?_ Sam thought to himself.  _It's Rory. He's my boyfriend, I shouldn't be a bag of nerves. I'm only asking to be traditional, it's not like he'd go with anyone else. So what's with the nerves?_

Rory's eyes brightened. He had never been asked to a dance before, and even though it was his boyfriend asking him, it still felt special that he was honoring the formality. "Why yes, of course I'll go with ye, Sam," Rory answered, grinning. He leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Uh, you're dating and living together, did you honestly think you had to ask?" Puck inquired sarcastically, screwing up his eyes at the unexpected PDA.

"It's just traditional, Puck," Sam answered curtly. "I want him to get the full prom experience, and that means getting asked to go," he added, glancing at Rory and smiling.

Puck simply shrugged and said, "Whatever," as he walked away. "Gay dudes are weird."

"Why do you say that?" Quinn asked, coming up beside him. In the past several weeks, a change had come over her – she had mellowed out immensely, stressing over very little, and instead putting all of her energy into her studies and helping get the Cheerios ready for their own nationals competition.

"I dunno, they just are," he shrugged. "Sam just asked Irish to the dance. They live together, isn't that kind of stupid?"

A small smile crossed Quinn's face. "No, it's not stupid at all. It's kind of romantic. Prom is the most important dance in high school. What's wrong with wanting to make it extra special?" There was a slight look of hurt behind her eyes, either from the fact she had yet to find a date, or because she was still hoping for Sam to come back to her, or both.

"I just think it's a good excuse to get an orgy going," Puck corrected her. "I got four-"

"Yes, Puck, I heard. Four college girls who can't wait to get in your pants," Quinn replied, rolling her eyes.

"I thought sophomores couldn't go to prom anyway," he added, forgetting that several of his friends attended last year and were sophomores.

Quinn just smiled, trying to ignore his foolishness. "A sophomore can go as long as their date is a junior or senior. Sam's a senior, and Rory's his date, so he can go." She choked back a tear at the thought again.

Puck lowered his voice and leaned in toward her. "You know what else is really weird? I think Rory might be the girl." Puck was looking around suspiciously as if he were afraid to be overheard.

"Seriously, Puck?" Quinn rolled her eyes again, her voice only slightyl louder than his, but still near a whisper.

"Yeah, look at them. Sam asked him out, Sam always watches his back, making sure nobody messes with him. Sam gives him all kinds of stuff. Dudes only do that for a chick, and a chick they wanna bang at that," Puck explained. If Quinn could have rolled her eyes around twice, she would have.

"That's not how gay relationships work. There isn't a girl and guy, they're equal. Of course, you don't get that anyway; girls are just a tight hole for you to-"

Puck held up his hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Ix-nay on the f-bomb-ay. When Quinn Fabray starts dropping f-bombs, the world is going to Hell," the eighteen year old objected.

"Puck, grow up," she finally said, rolling her eyes once more and walking toward the door to leave.

-ooo-

On the car ride home, Rory asked how an American prom worked. He grasped it in a vague, abstract sort of way - he'd seen all the posters cluttering the bulliten boards in the hallway - but he was still curious how it was different from any other school dance.

"It's the biggest dance of the whole school year, and it's only for juniors and seniors and their dates. It's kind of a send off I guess. Everybody gets dressed up in tuxes and fancy dresses. Usually they go out to dinner before the dance," Sam explained enthusiastically. "It's just awesome. Last year it kind of sucked though, because I was homeless and poor, so me, Rachel, and Mercedes had our prom on a budget."

"But ye' still had fun, right?" Rory asked. He always got a little nervous when Sam brought up the financial troubles his family had the previous year.

"Oh yeah, we had a good time. I just wish I could have done something more spectacular. I'm gonna make up for it this year though. It's senior year, I gotta go out with a bang," Sam added, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Rory smiled at him. It sounded fun, however it worked. Dressing up was fun, though he didn't have a tuxedo. Dancing was always fun too, even if he wasn't very good.

"I don't 'ave a tuxedo, though. Where can I get one?" the teen asked apprehensively.

"Oh, don't worry about that. See, you go out with friends and pick one out. Then your date doesn't see it until they pick you up," Sam answered, a smile forming on his lips. "You'll be getting ready at home, but I'm gonna get ready at Finn and Kurt's. That way I can pick you up and we won't see each other dressed up until I get there."

Rory tapped his chin. "That sounds really fun. So… we pick out tuxedos, ye' pick me up the night of the dance, and we go out to dinner first?"

"Yep, you got it," Sam said nodding. "You can go with Blaine and Kurt to pick out your tux. I'll go with Finn. Trust me, they won't let you leave the house looking anything less than stellar." Sam thought over his words a moment. "Not to say you don't always look awesome, and yeah okay I think I stepped in it," he ran on in a jumbled mess.

The Irishman leaned over and kissed Sam on the cheek, smiling. "I know what ye' meant. This is so exciting! I never really got to go to a dance before. Not like this."

Sam cocked his head. "Don't you do stuff like that at school in Ireland? You make it sound so primitive sometimes."

Rory laughed. "We do a lot of stuff, but I just never got to go. I never had a date, and I always felt out of place. I went to one dance, and it was so awkward I called me mam to come pick me up early." He hung his head at the memory, wanting to forget the embarrassing event.

"You never had a date to a dance, or ever? Like no dates with a girl or guy at all?"

The boy shook his head. "Nope. No date of any kind. Nobody was interested, and I wasn't about to ask a boy. I was very lonely there, which is why I wanted to come here, to sort of start over, but I almost failed at that too."

"And what changed that? Me?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. He already knew the answer to the question, but he had to admit he enjoyed hearing it. It made him feel important, especially when his self-confidence was lower than his personality would make it seem.

"Yes, Sammy. I met ye' just in time. If I hadn't, I was going to go home. I actually was so upset it wasn't working out here, I cried myself to sleep too many nights. I hated it. But then…" he trailed off, smiling. "But then ye' came along and were so nice, and such a good friend, and then it went to be so much more. It's wonderful." He leaned over and kissed him again, holding his hand on the gear shift, lacing their fingers together. "I love ye' so much. Ye'll never know how important ye' are to me, Sammy."

"No, I think I know, because I feel the same way about you." He turned and grinned at the younger teen.

"That's great, Sammy, and I love ye', but uh, the road…." Rory pointed ahead of them, Sam swerving just slightly to the side, brushing up against the curb.

Sam blushed as he jerked the wheel back in the proper direction. "I was just making sure you were paying attention."

Sam dropped him off at home, changed into his work clothes, and left for the rest of the evening. Rory curled up on the bed with his laptop, perusing clothing websites, looking at tuxedoes.

_These are insanely expensive. I can't afford all that. Two hundred dollars for a suit? For one dance? Mam and pap would kill me. Well, if they did, at least I'd have a nice outfit to be buried in,_ Rory thought, chuckling to himself.

Thinking of his parents, he realized that this was an important milestone in his high school career, and his family would miss it. Strangely, it was the first time that concept had actually occurred to him. While other students' parents would get to see their kids dressed up and excited, his would be at home, oblivious.

Rory pulled out his cell phone and typed out a quick message to his father.

_Hi pap, guess what? There’s a big important dance for 11 th and  12th grades at school and Sam asked me to go with him so I can go! It’s real formal with tuxedos and fancy shoes. I’m so excited. I’ll send you and mam pictures when we get dressed up. Love you both and Seamus, too._

He went back to browsing overpriced suits when his father had sent him a reply.

_We’re very excited for you, me son. Check your credit card tomorrow. We love you very much, and expect pictures! Your mum sends her love, and Seamus says hi. Tell Sam we said hello. Love, Mam and Pap_

Rory read the message twice, wondering what exactly was going on with his credit card. He had already been allowed so much money over the year, most of which he used to buy things for Sam, even though his parents didn’t know that, so he couldn’t imagine being given any more this late in the semester. There was only about a month left.

He sent a quick reply back, thanking them, and then went back to browsing. 

-ooo-

The next morning, before leaving for school, Rory checked his credit card balance like his father had told him to. He found a deposit for one hundred and fifty dollars. That gave him a grand total of three hundred to spent over the next month – twice what he would have had before.

_OMG thank you so much! I can find something really nice now! Love you both so much_

He texted to his father. He was so excited now that he had a decent amount of money to spend. He resolved to try and spend only around one hundred to one-fifty, so he would have enough left over for his dinner and ticket.

"Sam! Guess what? Me mam and pap sent me some money to buy me tuxedo suit!" the teen exclaimed.

Sam smiled, keeping his eyes on the road this time. "That's wonderful. When are you and the boys gonna go shopping? You don't have much time left, just a few days," he reminded him.

"Oh! I better ask them today. I bet Kurt knows the best place to shop for a nice tuxedo suit. I'm so excited, Sammy!" Sam placed his hand on top of his boyfriend's.

"I'm glad you're so excited. It will be loads of fun. I'm going with Finn tomorrow to find mine. We can't let each other see them though! Not until I pick you up on prom night," Sam instructed.

Rory nodded, and smiled. Sam pulled into the parking lot, the pair of them walking in together. Sam dropped him by his locker and went on to his own class, turning around to look at Rory one more time before he turned the corner.

-ooo-

_Going with Kurt and Blaine to the mall after school. See you when you get home from work tonight. Love, Rory_

Sam grinned as he read the text message on his phone. Rory was so enthusiastic about this dance that it made the event all the more exciting. Last year, Sam hadn't had a real date – just a 'friends date' with Rachel and Mercedes, and while it was fun, it was also a little depressing when all his friends had dates.

"How much have you got to spend on a tux?" Finn asked, drawing Sam's thoughts back to the task at hand. It was fourth period class hadn't started just yet, so of course, everyone was discussing the prom.

"Not a whole lot. Sixty bucks maybe? I have a little more, but I have to pay for dinner and our tickets," Sam replied.

Finn looked confused. "But, if the guy is supposed to pay for all that, and you're both guys, then why don't you split the cost of dinner and the tickets?"

Sam smiled, amused by Finn's logic. It made perfect sense, really, but that just wasn't Sam's way. "I asked him to go, so it's my duty to pay. That's the way it works, right? I mean, when you ask a girl to go, they know you're gonna pay because you asked them out. Same thing."

Scratching his head, Finn finally asked something that had been on his mind for a while, but was too reserved to question. "I still don't get it, dude. I mean sure, that makes sense I guess, but you're always paying for him. You kinda do the stuff for him like you would for a girl." He was trying to choose his words carefully, not wanting to offend his friend. He was genuinely trying to understand their relationship.

"Well yeah, I guess so," Sam replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"Well… I guess my question is… well… I don't mean this to sound messed up, but… you put him in the 'girl' role. Doesn't that ever bother him? How do you know he doesn't wanna put  _you_  in the 'girl' role?" Finn finished nervously.

Sam started to laugh. "Dude, I have no idea how this is  _supposed_  to work. Rory's the only guy I ever dated, and I'm the only person he's ever dated, period. There aren't any definite rules. We just… I dunno, we just kind of fell into how we are. Maybe because I'm older."

Finn mulled it over a minute. It still seemed very strange to him. Too many variables involved. "What if it's because you're bigger? Like stronger. I mean, you got all those muscles and abs and stuff, and he's kind of average, so you're definitely the dude and, uh I have no idea what I'm talking about," he trailed off, blushing and feeling incredibly stupid.

Sam put his hand on Finn's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We're happy the way things are, logic be damned. I mean, you don't worry about the dynamics of you and Rachel, right? You just do what you do. Same for us."

"I guess that makes sense. I was just curious. My step brother's gay, two of my best friends are suddenly gay, my finace's dads are gay, I figured maybe it's about time I understood it," Finn admitted sheepishly.

"That's very cool, Finn. Very cool," Sam said, giving his friend a grin. Finn grinned back, pleased with himself for Sam's praise.

-ooo-

Rory rode with Kurt and Blaine to the mall, practically bouncing in his seat. As soon as they arrived, he all but flew out the door, heading toward the entrance.

"Wait up, Rory!" Blaine called after him.

"Yes, wait. I refuse to break a sweat in this shirt. It'll totally ruin my cologne and encourage stains. Slow down," Kurt ordered. Rory stopped and waited for them, calming down enough to keep pace.

"Where are we gonna go first?" the young teen asked energetically.

Blaine looked at Kurt, their fashion diva, to lead the charge. They followed him to the first store – a fancy place that sold only tuxedos and nothing else. Rory started to flit from one suit to the next, inspecting them carefully.

"What color did you want to wear?" Blaine asked. He was afraid the boy might mentioned something outlandish like orange or yellow, or even pink.

Rory scratched his chin with his fingertips, thinking hard. "Well, what part? The pants, or the jacket? I like the black pants and jacket, but I want something colorful, too."

Kurt seemed suddenly inspired by this revelation and began to do some inspecting of his own. "I think that since you like the black, we stick with the black pants and jacket, but we can add some color with what you wear underneath."

Kurt started looking through the various dress shirts that went under the suit jackets. Dress shirts, cummerbunds, suspenders, bow ties, everything.

"How about this one?" Blaine asked, pointing to a black jacket with sapphire blue trim.

"That would be perfect for him! That blue will compliment his eyes just right," Kurt exclaimed, taking it off the rack. "Here, you must try it on!"

Rory took the jacket from him and pulled it on. It fit just right. Kurt instructed him to move his arms around to make sure it wasn't too tight anywhere. "There's a mirror, have a look," Kurt said.

The teen stood before the mirror, the jacket looking exquisite on him. He checked himself out front and back, liking the way it fit him. Of course, it didn't look as nice over his tee shirt as it would on a dress shirt, but it was definitely the right jacket.

"Wow, that's a good price, too!" Blaine observed, checking the tag. Seventy-five dollars.

"Normally I would say anything under one hundred is lackluster, but this," Kurt said, touching the fabric adoringly. "This is just right for you. Sam will fall in love with you all over again."

Rory smiled. He liked that idea. He put it back on the hanger and Blaine took it from him to hold while they explored the pants. Pants were much easier – just finding black tuxedo pants that fit was the only task. Another forty dollars.

He already had a nice pair of shoes and a nice white button down shirt. Kurt wouldn't let him get away without buying either item, however. The senior did assist him in choosing a cummerbund that matched the trim on the jacket, and then it was all up to Blaine to finish it off.

"This is the perfect bow tie for you, Rory," Blaine declared, adjusting it on his friend's collar. "It brings out your eyes, and with beautiful blue eyes like that, you definitely want to draw attention to them."

Rory blushed at the compliment. It wasn't often someone other than Sam showered him with kind words. "Okay, let's see how the whole ensemble looks on you. There's a changing room, we'll wait for you out here," Kurt instructed.

The young teenager took everything with him into the dressing room and started to change. When he got to the cummerbund, he was totally confused. He ushered Blaine into the room and after a moment, he was ready. Blaine stepped outside of the door and made a formal presentation.

"I would like to present, in his newest fashion ensemble, the handsome and elegant Mr. Rory Flanagan," Blaine said, pushing the door open to reveal the Irishman decked out to the nines.

Kurt and Blaine both began to clap, drawing attention to the trio. Rory blushed when he noticed other people were looking at them.

"You look absolutely stunning!" an enthusiastic female voice declared. Her name tag read 'Laura,' and she was tall, dressed in a professional skirt and suit jacket, her blonde hair pulled up into some sort of 'up-do'.

"Thank you, ma'am," Rory stuttered nervously.

"Ohhh and an accent! Irish it sounds like, right?" she asked, cooing over him.

"Yes, ma'am. Born and raised. I'm an exchange student," Rory explained, feeling more at ease when she gave him a comforting smile. "I'm going to the prom, and everyone says I need to look my best."

Laura motioned for him to turn around, then looked him over. "Yes, this looks perfect on you. Your date is very lucky indeed!" She clasped her hands together like an excited child.

"He sure is," Kurt said with a grin. "They make a very handsome couple. They'll look fabulous together!"

"Oh a gentleman, is it? He'll think you look terrific," the woman said, still smiling. Rory had been unnerved when Kurt mentioned that he was going with another guy, but her acceptance eased his nerves.

"Show her a picture of him," Blaine suggested.

"Oh, yes, please do!" Laura cheered. Rory pulled out his phone, shuffled through his picture album, and showed her the picture from the lake – the pair of them holding up their fish.

"Oh my goodness, he is stunning! Oh you two look perfect together. This is too exciting! Is he Irish too?"

Rory shook his head. "No, ma'am. He's American, from Lima."

"I bet he adores your accent. You can win a girl over in a heartbeat with a good accent. I bet he's the same," she cooed again, handing him back his phone.

Rory blushed and didn't say anything. "I think he's a little shy at all this attention," Blaine covered for him. "We'll have him change and bring everything up front. He's buying the whole ensemble."

Laura seemed very pleased at this – most likely a commission worker – but also genuinely excited for the teen. Rory changed back to his regular clothes, and the woman rang up the entire outfit. It rang up as a total of two hundred dollars, but after applying discounts that normally didn't go with that set but Laura insisted upon, it came down to one-seventy-five.

"Okay, now you have to hide this until prom night when Sam leaves to get ready. He can't see you at all until he picks you up. Hide it in his brother's closet or something," Kurt ordered.

They dropped him off, the smiling boy thanking them profusely. Rory practically skipped to the front door and showed off his new clothes to Mrs. Evans. A tear came to her eye as she noted his excitement. She offered to hide the outfit in Stevie's closet – a place Sam never tread, but Stacy insisted that she guard it in her room instead.

When Sam came home, he found Rory curled up in bed again, reading his Irish novel. He smiled widely when Sam came in, watching him change out of his work clothes, then observed him when he came back from a quick shower.

"It's killing you not to tell me what you got, isn't it?" Sam teased. "I'm sure it looks great. I can't wait." He clicked out the light and slid under the covers next to his boyfriend. "I love you. Goodnight."

"I love ye' too, Sammy," Rory replied, kissing him and then wishing him a good night. All he could dream about was showing up in his new outfit and Sam being stunned by how he looked. When he woke up the next morning, he was smiling as if someone gave him his very own pot of gold.

-ooo-

Sam looked up at the discount clothing rack at the tuxedo shop in the mall. He was busy scratching his chin, trying to decide, when a soft female voice offered to assist him.

"Oh! You must be Sam!" she exclaimed, smiling.

The blonde looked confused, and even a little concerned. "Uh.. yeah. Am I supposed to know you?" he asked nervously.

"Oh no, no, no of course not. I just saw a picture of you yesterday. Your boyfriend was in here and he bought the most handsome outfit. You're going to love it when you see it!" the woman assured him.

Feeling relaxed now that he knew why this perky woman knew his name, he decided she would be safe to ask for advice. "I want something that's going to look good with what he's wearing, but I don't have much money to spend," Sam explained, looking away, embarrassed.

"What's your budget, sweetie?" Laura asked coolly. "Tell me what we're working with, and I can work miracles for you, trust me."

Pulling out his wallet, he checked his cash. He had one hundred and thirty dollars, plus the cash he needed to pay for dinner and tickets. "Uh, one thirty. I know it's not very much for stuff this nice. That's why I was looking at the discount rack."

Laura grinned, already working something in her head. "Come on, sugar, we're gonna get you fixed up real nice. You leave it to me; I can work with one-thirty." She ushered him to follow her, his nerves going up a little as he saw pricetags that read triple digits passing by.

Laura gave him a once-over, noting the color of his eyes, his height and build, humming to herself all the while. Suddenly acting as if inspiration hit her, she started ruffling through the racks, searching for something specific.

"This is perfect! Try it on!" she insisted, handing him a tuxedo jacket. He put it on, testing the fit. It was just right. Solid black with an emerald green lining and trim.

"Yes, perfect. It'll go nicely with his. Now let's see…." She scratched her head for a moment and then in a flurry, assaulted the pants rack. She handed a pair to Sam, and then in a whirlwind, returned moments later with an emerald greencummerbund, suspenders, and a white button down shirt.

"Here, go in the dressing room, try it all on and let's see," she ordered, grinning. Sam shrugged and went in the room. As he tried each piece on, he noted the prices and his eyes widened. As he was sliding his pants on, a pair of dress shoes popped up under the door. "Try these, they're popular and very comfortable."

A couple of minutes later, Sam emerged from the dressing room, positioning himself in front of the double mirror. Laura looked him over and then clapped her hands.

"Wonderful! A work of art! Oh, you two will look amazing together!" she cooed. "Go on, change clothes, and I'll ring you up," she said, skittering off.

_Wow. She has more energy than my sister,_  Sam though, chuckling to himself. He showed up a few minutes later to the register where Laura started to ring things up. Fifty… one-hundred…. One-seventy-five….two hundred….. two fifty….. two sixty… ding!

"Oh that's just right," she exclaimed. She pushed a few buttons on the register and with another 'ding!', the total dropped down to one-twenty-nine and ninety-nine cents. "Oh, and a penny to spare!"

"How did you do that?" Sam asked, perplexed, thinking it was some sort of sales gimmick.

Laura smiled mischievously. "Two words, sugar. Employee. Discount."

Sam's eyes went wide again. "But I don't work here…" he replied, wondering what the catch was.

"No, but I do, and I also own the shop, so I can do what I want to. Do you know how much the markup is on these things? Trust me, we can afford to be generous at times," she stated with a smile.

"Well, I appreciate it, I really do, but… how come?" he asked, not wanting to offend her, but also genuinely curious as to why this woman was being so charitable.

Laura smiled again. "Because you two remind me of my late brother." Sam raised an eyebrow. "Yes, the sweet boy. He was only sixteen. He was in love with a boy, and when he professed his love, the boy was just plain awful to him. He took his own life, in an act of utter despair. It was tragic, really."

"I'm sorry…" Sam said, not sure how he was supposed to respond to the revelation.

"He was such a nice guy. Never would hurt a fly. All he wanted was a boyfriend – someone to love and love him. He never got it. He was so handsome, like you. Blonde hair, green eyes, tall, full lips." Laura looked as if she were about to cry, but still smiled. "I miss him dearly, but anyway. I see you and I think of him, and I guess I just can't help but… well, anyway, you boys have a great time. Be thankful for what you have, and love that boy with all you're worth."

Sam was stunned. Not only had this woman shared such a personal and intimate history with him, but she seemed to genuinely find her brother in him. Sam couldn't help himself – he opened his arms and embraced her in a friendly hug. "I'm sure your brother misses you too. Don't worry, someday, people like him, and me, and Rory, someday we'll be accepted."

The saleswoman wiped a tear from her eye. "Thank you, Sam. It was nice to see my brother again. Even if you aren't him, the memory was wonderful."

They bid each other goodbye, Sam walking down the hall toward the exit. He couldn't help but think about Laura's brother. He wished he asked her his name. Just to know. It was disturbing and sad the number of gay people who had taken their own lives. Coach Beiste's childhood friend. This woman's brother. David Karofsky's attempt. It made him all the more thankful for what he and Rory had.

-ooo-

Rory scurried around the bedroom, searching frantically for a pair of dress socks. He knew he had some, they just seemed to disappear from the drawer. Stevie came through the cracked door, watching him.

"Wow, Mr. Rory, that suit looks really good. I wish I could go to the dance, too. I wanna dress up real nice," Stevie said, looking Rory up and down.

"When ye' get older there will be plenty o' dances for ye' to go to. Then ye' can dance with all the real pretty girls and make e'eryone else jealous that ye' have them all!" Rory said, grinning at the boy.

Stevie seemed a little confused. "But Mr. Rory, how do you know it will be a pretty girl? What if I end up like Sammy and have a pretty boy instead?" Suddenly Rory felt like a deer in headlights. How in the heck was he supposed to answer that?

"Well, Stevie, I uhh, well…" He tried to think fast, but nothing was coming to him. "Maybe ye' should ask Sammy. Maybe he can explain it better than I can."

Stevie didn't seem to like this answer and stuck out his bottom lip in a frown. "But Mr. Rory,  _I_  asked  _you_. I want  _you_  to tell me," Stevie insisted, his eyes pleading. It reminded him of Seamus when he was being insistent.

Rory sighed in frustration. He crouched down on a knee and looked the boy in the eyes. "Ye' see, Stevie, sometimes someone just doesn't know until later in life. Like Sammy. He always liked girls and then all of a sudden he likes me. I always felt like I liked other boys. Sometimes ye' just  _know_  and sometimes ye' don't know until later when ye' just happen to come across that special person. Do ye' understand?"

Stevie slowly nodded his head as he processed the explanation. "So, if I don't know if I like boys or girls now, I might not know until I'm Sammy's age?"

Rory shrugged. "Maybe. Don't worry about it too much, though. Just make friends for now. Make lots of friends, and be ye'rself, and someday ye'll just  _know."_

"So I'll just  _know_? Hmm… I'll just  _know_ ," he repeated. "Okay, well when I  _know_ , I'll tell you and Sammy, okay?"

"Okay. Just make friends for now. Friends are great to have when ye'r any age." Rory stood back up and smiled at the boy. "I 'ave to finish getting ready. Sammy will be here, soon and I 'ave to look nice for him."

"Okay, Mr. Rory. I hope you have so much fun with Sammy. He better be a gentleman or I'll beat him up for you," Stevie declared confidently. Rory smiled at him as he trotted out of the room.

The teen was struggling with his suspenders and cummerbund when he heard a knock on the door.

"Can I come in, Rory?" Mr. Evans asked, poking his head through the door.

"Oh, yes, sir," Rory replied. The man came in the room and noticed the boy struggling.

"Here, let me help you with that," Mr. Evans offered, aligning the clips just right. "I hate these damn things, they're such a pain to try and get just right."

"Ye' got that one right on the nose," Rory chuckled.

Mr. Evans smiled at him as he finished helping him with this outfit. "This suit looks really nice on you, son. You picked a good one," he stated, handing Rory his jacket. "Yep, you shine up like a new penny."

"Do ye' think Sam will like it?" the teen asked nervously.

Mr. Evans laughed. "Son, I think you could wear a dead pig and he'd think you look amazing." Rory blushed at the complement.

"Stevie asked me a question, and I hope I answered it right, but I thought ye' should know," Rory stated, changing the subject. He recounted to Mr. Evans the entire conversation with the small boy, including his responses to him.

"I think that was an excellent way to handle it, son. It was honest and heartfelt without telling him more than he needed to know," Mr. Evans replied with a grin. "I doubt I could have explained it better, myself. Aside from you and Sam, my exposure to the alternate lifestyle is kind of limited."

Rory thought a moment. For someone who had such little exposure, Mr. Evans was incredibly understanding and caring. He said a silent prayer that someday his own father could be just as excited about it, but knew it would take some time. His dad may accept it, but for the time being he wasn't going to embrace it.

"You know something, Rory? I don't think Sam labels either one of you," Mr. Evans started. Rory looked at him with bewilderment. "I just think that Sam doesn't see straight, gay, any of that. I think he just sees someone he loves, and that someone happens to be a man. A man I'm pretty damn proud to know," he finished, putting a hand on Rory's shoulder and squeezing the way Sam did when he was trying to comfort him.

Rory had no idea how to respond to that, and it was obvious by the look on his face. He felt an immense amount of pride at that moment, but he wasn't sure if he should, or if he should be humble. Mr. Evans gave him the answer.

"Son, be proud of who you are," his host father said confidently. "Now enough of this sappy shit, it's time for you to finish getting ready. Your date will be here any time now." He gave Rory a playful nudge on the arm then turned to leave.

"Dad?" Rory asked, calling him by the pet name Mr. Evans requested. "Thank ye'. For e'erything." Mr. Evans nodded at him and smiled. That was Rory's cue that he accepted his thanks and to finish up.

Rory had just finished putting on his cologne when he heard the doorbell ring. Sam felt a little weird ringing his own doorbell, but it was all part of the act. He even shook hands with his parents as if they were  _Rory's_  parents instead.

Sam's mouth went agape when Rory stepped out from the hall, dressed in his tuxedo. The blue was subtle but captivating, the sapphire bowtie drawing attention to his sweet face. His hair was gelled, his jacket perfectly pressed and fitted. His shoes were shiny and new, and in his hand he held a boutonniere. Sam had one in his own hand to pin on his boyfriend.

"You look… stunning!" Sam said softly. He felt like his breath had left him, he could barely speak. "And you smell so good. You look  _amazing._ "

Rory blushed and thanked him, beaming. Sam looked amazing himself, decked out in black and emerald green that also drew attention to his eyes. His blonde hair was neatly styled and his smile was just as captivating as ever.

"Ye' look pretty amazing ye'rself. Ye' shine up like a new penny," the younger teen said, remembering the phrase Laura had used at the shop.

Mrs. Evans had to snap her fingers between their faces to get their attention. "Hey, Earth to boys, Earth to boys. Pin on your carnations," she instructed. That was an interesting task, neither boy feeling confident enough to pin the white flower on each other without inflicting injury with the pin.

When they finally achieved success, Mrs. Evans insisted on taking pictures. She went crazy with her camera, taking shot after shot, each boy by himself, then together, then a shot of the four of them, with the kids, then, setting the camera, a picture of the entire clan.

"Uh, we better get going if we're gonna make it to dinner. I have reservations for us. Kurt and Blaine are gonna meet us there," Sam explained, anxious to get away from his parents and to have Rory to himself.

"You boys have fun!" Mrs. Evans told them, tears of joy streaming down her face.

"Here, dinner is on us," Mr. Evans said, slipping a fifty dollar bill into Sam's jacket pocket. "Have a good time, and if you're gonna be past eight in the morning, just text so we know."

"Thanks, dad," Sam replied. Rory thanked him as well, and the pair was on their way to the restaurant.

-ooo-

"You look so amazing. No, better than amazing, but I don't know a word for it," Sam stammered as they got in the car. He held Rory's hand and squeezed, then leaned over and kissed him.

"Ye' look fantastic, Sammy. The best looking guy at the dance, I can guarantee it," Rory assured him. They continued to gush over each other the entire way to BreadstiX, kissing once more before going inside to meet their friends.

When Kurt and Blaine saw them, they both stood up to greet them. "You two look fabulous!" Kurt exclaimed. "I am speechless!" He clasped his hands in front of his mouth, truly in a state of awe.

"You know you accomplished something when even Kurt is speechless," Blaine commented with a smile. "You both look great."

"Thanks!" Sam replied. The two boys then went on to complement their friends – Blaine decked out with a bright purple bowtie, and Kurt in a kilt, this time colored white.

They had the same waitress that had helped them the night Sam and Rory brought the kids with them. She cooed over their suits, asked about the adorable children, and then took their orders.

Santana, Brittany, Puck, and some girl none of them recognized sat at another table on the other side of the room. They exchanged friendly waves but neither party sought to disturb the other.

"Hey, Finn! Rachel! Over here!" Sam called upon seeing their friends come in. "Sit with us. The more the merrier," he said.

"Wow, you all look so handsome!" Rachel exclaimed, looking them over. "I'm a lucky girl, surrounded by so many good looking men," she teased. While Finn may have found the comment offensive if it had been a table of straight guys, he found it amusing with the current company.

"You look pretty stunning yourself," Sam replied with a smile. Rachel may be annoying at times, but she had a beautiful voice to go with her appearance.

Rory stood up like a gentleman and welcomed her to the table. A waft of her perfume hit his nose. "Wow, ye' smell better than ham."

"I think that's a compliment," Finn assured her as she looked at the Irish boy as if he had an extra head.

"Oh. Well, thank you. I think," she replied, sitting down. The waitress reappeared to take the additional orders, commenting on Rachel's gorgeous dress and hairstyle.

An hour later, the small group was pleasantly fed and ready to attend the big event. "You kids have a great time!" the waitress told them as they left.

-ooo-

"Are you ready for the most awesome dance of your life?" Sam asked with a grin as he pulled into a parking space in the school lot.

"I sure am. This should be amazin'," Rory said, grinning. He turned to Sam and they kissed. Sam got out of the car and came around to Rory's side, opening the door for him. He held out his hand and helped him step out onto the asphalt.

Both of them smiling from ear to ear, they walked arm in arm to the gym door. It was propped open, two students from the senior prom committee standing there to greet and take tickets.

Rory's eyes went wide as he took in the sight of the gym, decorated with streamers, paper ornaments, flashing colorful strobe lights, balloons. The stage was set up on one side, a long table with light refreshments on the other side. Large speakers stood at the four corners. It was amazing to see the gym in such a decorative, festive state after it had been a place of such trauma months before.

"You okay in here?" Sam asked, looking over at his boyfriend. The question was really unnecessary, however, as the smile on his face, the shine in his eyes, told Sam exactly what he had been hoping – Rory was happy to be there.

Instantly, they spotted several other glee club members. Rachel and Finn had managed to sneak in before they did. Tina and Mike were dancing vigorously in the middle of the room. Artie and Sugar were over at the refreshment table, sipping punch and talking. Brittany and Santana were dancing rather suggestively with Puck and his dates.

"Hey, look, Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury are actually grooving over there," Sam said, pointing to their teachers. Rory chuckled at the sight of teachers cutting loose. That wasn't too common in Irish schools.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this," a voice said as lithe arms squeezed the two boys, and Blaine's face appeared between their own. "About time you two showed up," he joked.

"How did ye' get here before us?" Rory asked, genuinely concerned.

"You've seen how Blaine drives. He doesn't exactly observe the speed limit," Kurt interrupted, showing up with a cup of punch for himself and Blaine.

The little group made their rounds to the rest of their friends, exchanging compliments on chosen outfits, hairstyles, and other accessories. The music was loud, so loud it was hard to hear each other, but the rhythm was infectious.

Sam took Rory by the hand and dragged him out to the dance floor, the pair of them starting to enjoy the music together. Rory still had a lot to be desired in the dance department, but he was cutting loose with Sam just fine. Within a few moments, more of their friends joined them, trading off dancing partners left and right; an orgy of friends dancing like crazy people having fun.

After dancing for a half hour straight, they needed a break. They sat down at a table to catch their breath when one of the prom committee students came by with a tray of cups of punch. Rory looked to Sam, remembering his warning about taking drinks from people.

Sam took two drinks off the tray and put one in front of Rory. He stared at it for a moment, remembering what Sam had warned him about open drinks from strangers. "It's safe, you can drink it. I promise," he smiled, taking a swig. It was endearing how seriously Rory had taken Sam's warning, and the blonde was greatly appreciative of it. Rory chuckled and took a sip of his own drink, his eyes wandering around, watching the other seniors and juniors enjoying themselves.

"So, you don't have anything like this in Ireland?" the blonde questioned, cocking his head.

Rory shrugged. "We 'ave dances, but nothing like this. This is amazing," he replied, his voice filled with awe.

"Hey guys, we're up in fifteen minutes," Rachel announced, trotting by the various glee club members, gathering them up for their performance.

"McKinley High, I now present to you, the New Directions!" Mr. Schuester blared over the microphone, drawing attention to his group. For once, there were cheers and whistles as they were welcomed on the stage. This was a day of fun, not a day to humiliate.

New Directions put on an amazing performance of "Love Shack," "Wanna be Startin' Something," and "Just Dance." The girls sang "I Kissed a Girl," while the boys showcased "Shut Up and Dance." The crowd was going wild, screaming and cheering, dancing and jumping around. It was impossible for even the most anti-glee clubbers to not groove to The B52's, Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and Aerosmith.

When their performances were over, Principal Figgins took center stage, calling for order. "Would the couples nominated for Prom Queen and Prom King please approach the stage," he announced. Rachel and Finn made their way up, Mercedes and Shane joining them, Puck and Quinn following, as well as several other couples that Rory recognized, but not by name.

The prom committee quickly rounded the room, passing out and collecting ballots. Rory voted for Rachel and Finn, but Sam voted for Mercedes and Shane, wishing that Mercedes could claim her five minutes of fame. They had barely spoken all year, but he still respected her as a person and would have loved to see her smiling face as she was awarded the crown.

Several minutes later, the tallied ballots handed to the principal. "Now I would like to announce the winner of the senior prom king. Please wait a moment," Figgins said in his monotone voice. He opened the envelope and declared Finn to be the winner. It came as no surprise then that Rachel was revealed as his queen.

A tear trickled down Sam's face as the DJ played the chosen song for the royal dance. "I Had the Time of My Life." It was a song he had sung with Quinn, the first girl that he ever loved. They performed at regionals and they helped take the winning slot.

"Why are ye' crying, Sammy?" Rory asked, noticing the single tear on his cheek.

Sam forced a smile. "It's nothing, baby." He fibbed.

"Ye'r a poor liar. Tell me, please," Rory begged, giving Sam the 'puppy dog eyes'.

Sam smiled, but this time it was genuine. "This song just brings back memories," he replied. Sam looked into Rory's concerned blue eyes and felt a wave of emotion crash over him. He was struck again by his love for Rory, his kindness, his selflessness, and the way his love for Sam radiated from each pore. What he'd had with Quinn wasn't even comparable to what he felt with Rory, the warmth he felt inside whenever he saw the boy smile. Suddenly, the weight of the pain from hearing the song he'd sung with her evaporated, leaving only a vague memory and the opportunity to add to the happy memories with Rory. "It brings back memories, but you know what? It's time to make some new ones."

Relieved, Rory smiled back at him, tracing the older teen's lips with his fingertip before kissing him softly.

"Rory Flanagan, will you do me the honor of dancing with me, to this song?" Sam asked, standing up and holding out his hand. Rory took it, squeezing his hand and smiling.

"I would be honored, Sam Evans," he replied, standing up. They joined the rest of the crowd on the dance floor, closing the distance between themselves. Rory rested his head on Sam's shoulder as they joined hands and rested their free hands on each other's waists. They swayed slowly back and forth, Sam quietly whispering the words to the song in Rory's ear.

By the end of the song, they were both smiling, dancing slowly to the music as if they were the only ones in the room, as if they were completely alone, and focused on each other, and only each other.

When the song ended, they stared into each other's eyes. "Now ye' have a new memory to replace the old one. I love ye' Sammy, more than anything."

This time when he wiped the tear from Sam's cheek, it was from happiness, not sadness.

-ooo-

When the dance was over, they walked hand in hand to the parking lot, both smiling just as wide as when they first arrived. Ever the gentleman, Sam opened the car door for his date before getting in himself.

They sat in comfortable silence on the way home, tired and worn out from the evening's festivities. It was just past eleven when they arrived home. Sam held out his hand to assist Rory out of the car and walked him to the door.

"Usually, this is where we say goodnight, and there's a goodbye kiss, but uh…" Sam started awkwardly, trying to stay with his 'full prom experience'.

Rory looked into his eyes, leaned in, and kissed him long and lovingly. "Good night, Sammy. See ye' in the bedroom soon," he said with a grin. He walked inside, leaving Sam on the doorstep. Everyone else had gone to bed for the night, so he quietly made his way to the bedroom. Not moments later, he was joined by Sam.

"Welcome home," the Irishman teased. "How was ye'r dance tonight?"

"It was amazing. I had the hottest date, and we danced all night. Rachel and Finn won prom royalty, but I think I was the one who had the real king," Sam said, realizing his last statement sounded incredibly more corny vocalized than it did in his head.

Rory leaned in for another kiss. "Sammy, ye'r a right good silly man."

"What about you? How was  _your_  date? Was he cute? Did he dance okay?" Sam asked, keeping up with the ruse.

"He wasn't cute at all. He was handsome and stunning and hot all at once. He was the perfect gentleman and danced with me all night, even though I'm not that good meself," Rory answered, hugging him and not letting go.

They ended their embrace and began to undress. Rory insisted on hanging up their jackets and folding up their clothes despite the fact they would be in the wash the next day. They stood there, again hugging each other, wearing nothing but their boxers. There was no fire in their embrace, only deep, heartfelt emotion. Rory rested his head against Sam's strong shoulder, feeling sleepy as the warmth of Sam's skin washed over him.

"Let's go to sleep, Sam," Rory suggested, yawning. "I'm tired. Such a long night, but it was wonderful," he said breathlessly.

"I'm glad you had fun. That was more important to me than anything else. I wanted you to have the full experience," Sam added, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Rory's hair and sliding his hand gently across the boy's bare back.

Sam took his boyfriend by the hand and led him to the bed, turning the light out on the way before sliding under the covers. Sam opened his arms and Rory quickly cuddled into the circle of his boyfriend's open arms, tangling their legs together as well. Sam nuzzled against the back of Rory's neck and whispered, "I just want to hold you tonight. Just be close to you, Rory."

"That's funny. I wanted the same thing with ye'." Rory chuckled, snuggling back further into Sam, lacing his fingers into the spaces between Sam's on his abdomen. Sam kissed his shoulder in apprecation of the increased closeness.

"I love you," Sam mumbled against his skin, his voice heavy with sleep.

"I love ye' too, Sammy," Rory replied, contentedly sleepy.

He felt Sam's breath against his skin as it grew slower – the sign that Sam was falling asleep. Rory wasn't far behind, falling into a sleep filled with dreams of more dancing, the two of them the only ones on the dance floor.

 


	24. Episode 24: Nationals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Be prepared for an emotional roller coaster ride. That is all._ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality

**Recap:**  Sam showed Rory the time of his life at the prom, making sure he got the best experience possible. Blaine and Kurt took Rory out shopping while Finn went with Sam and both of them got great deals from a gay friendly store owner. By the end of the night there was nothing but love all around and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 24: Nationals**

The last days of the school year were dwindling by, one at a time. Prom had been a huge event for all the seniors, but the glee club had an even bigger event: Nationals. For most of the club, this was  _the_  event,  _the_  final hurrah for them to make their mark in the world of high school show choir.

The plane had landed in San Francisco, California, a full eight hours after leaving Lima, Ohio, at seven in the morning. The club had been instructed to pack light – it was only going to be a three day trip, and they were sharing hotel rooms, so space would be limited. After eight hours in a plane, plus airport time and layovers, the entire group was ready to get on solid ground and get some rest, away from each other.

The hotel they were staying at was at least twenty stories high, with every amenity they could desire. The only reason they could have even thought about staying at such a lavish place was all thanks to Sugar. Her father would foot the bill as long as his baby girl got to perform.

"This place is amazing," Rory stated, his eyes wide as he looked around the massive lobby. The ceiling was high enough for two floors, everything made of marble and stone. The floor was so shiny it may as well have been a mirror, a fact that made Quinn quite paranoid in her sundress.

The lobby was filled with sofas and armchairs positioned around polished wooden tables, fire places, and large screen televisions. It was very overwhelming for a group of kids who came from a small town like Lima, and in Rory's case, Derry.

Mr. Schuester had finished checking them in, bringing with him a handful of room keys. "Okay guys, listen up. I've assigned roommates since we have so many couples," he announced, looking around to take a mental head count.

"The first room we have Puck, Finn, Rory, and Blaine. The second we have Artie, Sam, Mike, and Kurt. On to the girls we have, well, Sugar gets her own room. Then there's Santana, Rachel, and Quinn. And lastly Brittany, Mercedes, and Tina."

Kurt nudged Blaine in the side. "Could he have made it any more obvious he was splitting us all up? What does he think we're going to do in a room full of people, anyway?" Blaine smiled and nodded in agreement.

Puck raised his hand as if he were back in the classroom. "Uh, Mr. Schue, wouldn't it make more sense for, you know, uh, me, Finn, Artie, and Mike room together? You know, so the other dudes can have a sleepover or whatever gay dudes do when they hang out?"

Kurt turned around and glared at Puck. "Could you  _be_ more offensive?" he asked, annoyed.

Puck shrugged. "Hey, just tryin' to help you guys out and all. You'd rather room with your boy anyway wouldn't you?"

Mr. Schue cleared his throat. "Thanks for the suggestion but I split couples up for a reason. We don't want to encourage any monkey business between  _anyone_ , regardless of sexuality," he stated, making sure it was clear the arrangement was not aimed solely at the three homosexual couples. "That also means no boys in the girls rooms alone."

The straight guys of the group groaned as if they had some sort of plans for sexual deviancy that had suddenly been shattered. The girls found the entire thing amusing, and were able to maintain a sense of dignity in hiding their frustrations.

"Follow the bellhops upstairs with your bags. I'll give you an hour to unpack and get settled and then meet down here at six thirty. We're going out on the town to find some dinner," Mr. Schue announced, turning the kids loose to find their rooms. He may have split them all up strategically, but they were all on the same hallway.

Rory was nervous. He hadn't gotten to know Puck as well as he had some of the other guys, and it made him uneasy, particularly after his comment downstairs. While he never felt like Puck  _disliked_  him, he never got the warm fuzzies from him, either. The fact that there was only two beds to be shared didn't make things any easier.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked as he watched Rory lay a pillow down on the floor and unfold an extra blanket next to the bed.

"There's only two beds, so I was goin' to sleep on the floor. I don't want anyone to be uncomfortable," Rory replied quietly.

Blaine stared at him, but then remembered just how he had felt when he was Rory's age and just coming to terms with his own sexuality. He had deemed it 'heterophobia' and explained it as a fear of the reactions of straight men to gay people.

"Rory, don't be silly. First off, you can share a bed with me if it makes you feel better. You know I'm not going to do anything to you. Second, do you really think Puck or Finn would freak out like that?" Blaine comforted him, looking him in the eye to drive his point home.

Rory shrugged. "No, I guess not. I guess Puck just makes me nervous. I don't know him that well even though we've been in glee all year long," the teen explained, whispering as quietly as possible. "He can be kind of intimidating sometimes."

Blaine knelt down and picked up the pillow and blanket off the floor. "Relax. We have bigger things to worry about than sleeping arrangements. Trust me, Sam isn't worrying about it, and neither should you." He gave him a comforting smile and then stood up, placing the items on the bed.

-ooo-

Their first trip out of the hotel and onto the streets of San Francisco was filled with the entire group walking around with jaws agape, eyes wide, and excited declarations of awe. Even though most of them had been to New York the previous year, this was a new place, worthy of just as much admiration.

Dinner was a much calmer affair. Jet lag had kicked in; the entire club exhausted. The only reason nobody wanted to crash right away was because the food from the airport was disgusting, and nobody wanted to miss out on their first night on the town.

It was the students themselves that actually had to drag Mr. Schuester back to the hotel to turn in for the night. Somehow, the teacher had far more energy and enthusiasm than any of his young students.

Before going to bed, Sam kissed Rory goodnight and made sure he told him how much he loved him. Puck rolled over in his bed and groaned. It was entirely too much fluff for his liking. Sam then returned to his own room where he quickly gave in to the drowsiness, and, like the rest of the club, dreamed of victory at the competition.

-ooo-

The first full day they were in San Francisco was a free day. Mr. Schue allowed them to venture into the city in groups as long as they kept in touch with him via cell phone texts.

On his way down from his room, Rory realized he had forgotten his cell phone on the charger. He knew if he didn't have it, Sam would be ticked off, worried that if they were separated he may get lost. His friends had already made it down to the lobby and were waiting.

On his way back down, the elevator stopped on the eighteenth floor. To his surprise, Puckerman waltzed into the elevator as if there was no reason to be suspicious of his presence two floors down from their rooms.

Trying to be friendly, Rory asked what his group was planning to do.

"I don't know about everyone else, but I wanna hit up a strip club. No such thing in Lima, you know," Puck chuckled in response. "I guess that wouldn't do you much good, though."

Rory gave a nervous laugh, unsure if Puck's comment was meant to be a jibe, or just a harmless joke. His confusion was cut short, however, when the lights began to flicker and there was a loud bang.

"What the fuck was that?" Puck asked, looking around.

"I-I don't know," Rory replied, suddenly feeling like he might vomit. One thing he never wanted to hear in a elevator was loud noises, and feel strong shudders of the car. Flickering lights weren't a good sign either.

"Maybe it's just-" but Puck didn't get to finish as there was a loud snap, and they felt themselves jarring inside the elevator car. Loud squeals echoed through the deep shaft as the elevator began to plummet downward at an alarming rate.

Just in time, the emergency brakes kicked in, the sound deafening as they engaged with the steel beams that formed the shaft. Both teens fell on all fours as the car slammed to a stop, the lights no longer flashing, but going off altogether.

"Hey, Irish, you all right?" Puck asked, pulling himself to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Ye' okay, too?" Rory asked nervously. The car suddenly filled with red as emergency lights kicked in.

"Yeah, I'm good. What the fuck just happened?" Puck replied, knowing full well the answer.

Rory gulped, looking around aimlessly. "I think… I think we fell down the shaft."

Puck, normally able to keep a relaxed demeanor, started to panic. "What the hell? We could have been killed! What the fuck is wrong with these people? Can't they maintain a simple elevator?"

Rory stood back, alarmed at the sudden outburst, and too afraid to say anything. The last thing he wanted to do was further agitate his fellow prisoner.

"There should be an emergency phone, right?" Rory asked, feeling his way over the control panel. The cover to the phone popped off when he twisted the knob, but the line was dead. He looked at Puck helplessly.

"You're shitting me. No phone? My cell isn't picking up either," he complained, examining the signal indicator.

"Mine either. It must be the steel beams out in the shaft," Rory suspected. He watched as Puck slammed his fist into the panel, leaving a small dent.

"We have to get out of here. There has to be an emergency exit, right?" Puckerman asked, his voice actually showing a sign of fear.

Rory shrugged. All he knew of elevators was what he saw in the movies, and in the movies, the escape hatch was always at the top of the car. Puck lifted him up to the ceiling, where he fumbled around for a latch.

"See anything, Irish?" Puck asked, starting to lose his grip.

"I almost got it. Just a second longer," Rory told him, finally unclasping the latch. He swung it open and then poked his head out to see what he could see.

Nothing. There was no light whatsoever in the shaft other than the faint glow of the emergency light coming out of the hatch. He could see well enough to observe the remnants of thick cable that pulled the car up and down the track.

Rory dropped back down out of the hatch, defeated. "I can't see anything. No light. I don't think we can get out that way anyhow."

Puck swore again, punching the wall for good measure. He shook his hand as the sharp pain of hand meeting metal set in. "Okay kid, I'm gonna lift you up again. This time shout really loud. Just scream for help or something. The echo should go up the shaft and somebody somewhere has to hear it."

"Good idea," Rory agreed. Puck was obviously smarter than most people gave him credit for. The older teen picked him up again, and this time when Rory poked his head out of the hatch, he yelled as loud as he could for help.

Puck lost his grip and the pair fell into the floor. "I'm so sorry!" Rory apologized, scrambling to get off the older boy. He expected Puck to swear at him, call him names, anything to act out his anger, but instead the boy just pushed himself up off the floor.

"Sorry, man. Lost my grasp," Puck apologized, to Rory's surprise. "I guess now we just… wait?" Puck stated rhetorically. Rory shrugged.

"I think we don't 'ave much choice. We can't get out, the phone is out, our own phones won't pick up," Rory ticked off each item on his fingers. "Maybe we should try shouting again."

Puck rubbed his back. "I dunno, dude. That last one killed my back. You aren't exactly light you know."

"I'm sorry," Rory said flatly, hanging his head.

"Dude, you apologize too much for stupid shit," Puck said, his tone actually friendly.

Rory was about to apologize again, but he stopped himself, opting not to speak at all rather than give another unnecessary apology.

"I wasn't trying to insult you. Just sayin' you don't need to apologize for everything. You just need to chill a bit," the older teen told him in response to the silence.

Rory just nodded, unsure what else to say. He looked around hopelessly, wishing that an answer of some sort would present itself and they could safely get out and back to their friends.

It suddenly hit him that none of his friends knew where he was. The last they knew, he was on his way downstairs after using the bathroom. He should have been to the lobby by now, but he wasn't, and there was no way they would know he was stuck in an elevator shaft with Puck.

"I guess we just wait," Puck suggested. He sat down, leaning back against the wall. "Man, this is  _not_  how I planned to spend my afternoon." When Rory didn't speak, but just sat down on the opposite side of the elevator, Puck gave him a bewildered stare. "You scared?"

The Irish teen nodded his head. "Yeah. Ye'?"

Puck smirked. "Yeah. But if you tell anyone that, I'll kill ya." Again, Rory said nothing. "Dude, I'm kidding. Lighten up."

Rory forced himself to chuckle, if anything to ease the tension. "Alright," Puck began, "If you aren't gonna talk, I guess I'll just sit here and doze off. Wake me up when the rescue squad gets here."

Puck wasn't kidding when he said he was going to doze off. Within a minute, he was snoring like a human buzzsaw. Rory had no idea what to do. Puck had given up on actually _doing_  anything to prompt their escape, and in all reality, he had no idea himself what else  _to_ do. His phone wouldn't get a signal, the emergency phone wasn't working, he couldn't get back through the hatch now that Puck was asleep and had hurt his back. There really wasn't anything else to do but wait.

-ooo-

Sam paced the lobby, getting more and more worried about Rory. He hadn't come down from the room yet, and the others were getting antsy. They wanted to go explore.

"Guys, I am seriously getting freaked out. He isn't answering his phone, isn't replying to my texts, and he isn't in the room," Sam said for the fifth time. He was wringing his hands like an old lady, feeling his body starting to sweat with worry.

Tina was leaning up against Mike, watching him. "Sam, calm down, please. I'm sure there has to be a perfectly logical explanation," she said, attempting to comfort him.

"No, not at this point. He's been gone too long. Oh god, what if he got lost in the hotel somewhere?" the blonde cried, looking upward as if the ceiling would reveal his boyfriend's location.

"Come on, Sam, be reasonable. It's a hotel, not a maze. Even if he took a wrong turn, there's enough signs for him to make it down here," Mike added, sighing. He looked at his watch; it had been an hour.

Sam stopped in his tracks as if an idea suddenly hit him. His eyes roved the room, looking for  _something._

"Sam, what is it?" Rachel asked, turning around from Finn just in time to see his odd behavior.

Finn stepped away from her and put his arm on Sam's shoulder. "Hey, dude, what's up? You think of something?"

Sam looked like he was about to reveal some sort of amazing idea, but then he just hung his shoulders in defeat. "No. Nothing."

Santana and Brittany stepped off one of the elevators, laughing at something one of them had said. Rachel caught their attention and inquired if they had seen Rory anywhere.

Santana scoffed. "No. Did you try, oh I dunno, his room? Phone call? Text message?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes, yes, yes, we checked all of those, multiple times. Still, nothing," Sam replied, his heart sinking at yet another dead end.

"Maybe he just had to go to the bathroom  _really_  bad, and he fell in the toilet or something," Brittany suggested. "Or maybe he fell asleep. There was this one time, when I was-"

"Uh, thanks, Brittany but I think that one is a bit stretching it. It's been an hour," Finn stopped her. None of them really cared to hear the end result of Brittany's bathroom experience.

Santana scratched her chin, having a sudden revelation. "You know, come to think of it, has anyone seen Puck around? I sent him a text earlier to see if he wanted to go with us to the mall, but never heard back."

"Coincidence? Or do you think they might be somewhere together?" Tina asked hopefully.

"Ew. They would never- Oh, wait, you just mean in the same place at the same time. Nevermind," Finn said, turning a bright shade of red.

Tina and Rachel went to sit down on either side of Sam, who had taken to one of the couches in front of a fire place. Mike and Finn continued to talked with Santana and Brittany.

Rachel put her arm around the fretting boy. "Sam, we'll find him. There  _has_  to be a good explanation. If he had left the building, we would have seen him."

"Sam?" Tina asked, trying to get his attention. No luck, however, as he simply sat and stared at the ground, his hands quivering. She snapped her fingers in front of him a couple times, calling his name, but no response.

"I think he went catatonic," Rachel suggested, nudging him in the side to try and get a reaction from him. The only response she got was tears starting to drip from Sam's fading green eyes.

"Hey guys, we're gonna look for him, okay? We're gonna scour the entire hotel and see if we can find him," Finn offered approaching the trio. "And Puck, too," he added, noting that Santana only agreed to help if they were searching for Puck.

The group of friends spent five minutes discussing strategy and then split up, going up the stairwells and taking different floors. Blaine and Kurt were just coming back from lunch when they saw the small group. Mike filled them in and the pair decided it best if they stayed in the lobby, in case Rory came down looking for them.

-ooo-

Rory finally woke up, his head aching. He checked the time on his phone – it had been over an hour – almost two. Puck was awake, playing a game on his phone.

"About time you woke up," Puck said jokingly. "Nothing new, anyway. You may as well go back to sleep," he added.

Rory shrugged. "I can't handle another nap against that wall. I'm too worried."

"No, you're too scared," Puck corrected him. Rory glared at him. "Hey, chill, I'm scared, too. This damn thing could fall down the rest of the way at any moment. You think I wanna die in an elevator shaft? Without some hot chick to bang first? I don't fucking think so, kid."

Rory couldn't help but laugh. If there was one thing Puck lived for, it was women and sex. Puck wanted booty, but all Rory wanted was Sam, keeping him safe and sound. Even if they were gonna die in this elevator, if Sam were there with him, he'd feel better.

"Dude, we're not really gonna die. I was joking," Puck said before bursting into laughter of his own. The thing was, Puck wasn't so sure about that. They really  _could_  plummet the rest of the way down, however far that happened to be. There was no telling exactly what floor they were even stuck on.

When they finally quieted back down, they sat in an awkward silence for about fifteen minutes before Puck broke the tension.

"So uh, what's it like? Being with another dude?" the mohawked teen inquired out of nowhere.

Rory shrugged. "Just like with a girl, I guess. I mean, we hang out, go on dates, do  _stuff_. I can't imagine it's that much different."

"I guess not. But isn't it weird, you know, doing that  _stuff_  with a dude? I mean, I can't imagine even touching one, let alone…" Puck trailed off, wondering how badly he really wanted to discuss this curiosity.

"Think about what ye' just said," Rory stated flatly. "I could say the same thing to ye' about girls. We can't help who we're attracted to, or what  _stuff_  we like to do. It just  _is_ ," he said, slightly annoyed.

Puck shrugged, focusing on his game again. "Cool," was all he said. Rory's explanation was obviously over his head.

-ooo-

Another hour passed before the two prisoners heard something that sounded like a rescue. Looking up through the ceiling, they could see a spot of white light – one of the doors leading to the outside had been cracked open.

"Anyone down there?" a voice shouted, echoing through the shaft.

Both Puck and Rory began to shout for help, declaring that they were, indeed, alive and well, but trapped.

"We're gonna get you out. A rescue officer is gonna climb down. There's a ladder set into the wall and you can climb up here," the voice said.

There was a loud wrenching sound as the rescue workers pried open the door wider to allow for a person to squeeze through. The light was blocked a moment as a figure made his way into the shaft, and began to descend.

When the rescue worker made it to the car, he secured a rope on the wall and the two teens climbed out – Puck helping Rory to get up and out.

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to tie this safety rope around your waist, and you're going to climb up this ladder, slowly. That rope is secured just in case you slip, but let's try to avoid that. When you get to the top, they'll help you out," the officer instructed.

Within fifteen minutes, the two boys had emerged from their former prison and set foot on solid ground again. The officers offered medical assistance, but both of them insisted they were fine – just tired from climbing.

"Why don't you return to your hotel rooms and get some rest?" the leading officer stated. "We'll be in contact with you before the end of the day. We have to file a report."

The teens thanked the officers and decided to take the stairs back up to their rooms.

-ooo-

When Puck and Rory came out of the stairwell, they saw a crowd in the hall, in front of their room doors. Mike, Tina, Santana, Brittany, Finn, and Rachel all stood there, talking with someone in the room they were next to.

"Hey! There they are!" Finn shouted when he spotted his two friends. "Where were you guys? We've been searching everywhere!" he asked in a concerned tone.

Blaine and Kurt emerged from the nearby elevator just in time to see Sam dash out into the hallway. He threw his arms around Rory, hugging him tight. When he let go, his demeanor changed frighteningly fast.

"Where the fuck have you been? Do you realize how worried I have been? We spent almost three hours searching every nook and cranny of this godforsaken hotel for you! you could have been dead, or kidnapped, or god knows what!" Sam shouted, his face red with anger.

"Sam, I-" Rory tried to speak, but Sam wasn't letting him.

"You what, Rory? You what? Forgot your phone again? Couldn't be bothered to return a text message, or a call, or  _anything_? Goddammit! Do you even comprehend how worried I was? Do you even care?" Sam continued to shout, his entire body clenched in tension, his face filled with rage.

"Sam, let me-"

"I give you  _everything_  and I do  _everything_  for you, Rory. Everything! All I ask is that you let me know where you are, if you're safe! All I ask is that my boyfriend keep in touch so I don't worry, but you can't even do that! I thought that you would care a little bit more than that. What were you thinking?" Sam's voice echoed through the hall. Tears started to run down Rory's bright red face.

"Would you calm down!" Puck shouted over Sam. "Shut up and listen already! You have no idea what's gone on!" He actually shoved Sam backward in frustration. "Stop treating him like a little girl!"

Sam huffed angrily, standing straight again. "I wouldn't treat him like one if he didn't act like one!" he said between clenched teeth.

That was it. Two things happened in lightning speed at that very moment. The first was that Rory turned on his heel and ran at top speed down the hall toward the stairwell, his sobs echoing before the door slammed shut, everyone too stunned to speak or move.

The other? Sam felt his head exploding with sudden pain as something collided with it, forcing him to see stars. The loud noise of whatever hitting him echoed through the now silent hallway. Everyone was speechless, awestruck, terrified. Santana had slapped him in the face with every bit of her strength. She hadn't held back in the least.

Sam shook his head to get his vision back, then realized what had happened, holding his hand to his cheek and breathing heavily. He started to say something, but the angry woman silenced him.

"You are a fucking asshole, Sam Evans!" Santana shouted at him. Her eyes were filled with a fury he had never seen before. "I don't like that little potato eater one bit, but _nobody_  deserves what you just did. That kid worships the ground you walk on, the toilet you shit in, and you just humiliated him in front of half his friends. And me."

Sam was too stunned to reply to her. Santana was actually  _defending_  Rory, her least favorite person in the club.

"You asshole," the woman huffed. "You don't deserve him," she went on. "He annoys the hell out of me, but even I have to admit he treats you damned good, and you just reamed him without even listening to what he had to say. Coming from a bitch like me, that says a lot about you."

Puck finally got a word in. "Dude, we've been stuck in an elevator shaft for the past three hours," he declared, also angry. "If you had shut up for two seconds and let him explain, you'd know that." He shoved Sam again, knocking him back into the wall in a stumble. He huffed past him and into the room, growling in frustration.

Sam felt like a brick had dropped on his head. "What? Oh my god… What did I-? What was I-? Oh  _fuck_ me!" he cried, a mix of emotions suddenly filling him. He felt like he would vomit. He lost every bit of color in his face, sweat began to pour off of him, and he felt his whole body go weak. He dropped to the floor on all fours, his chest tightening.  _Is this a heart attack?_  he asked himself.

"Get up off the floor you sack of shit," Santana ordered, her voice still laced with venom. "Go find your man. Make things right. And get out of my sight. You disgust me right now." All eyes shifted back and forth from Santana to Sam and back, waiting for him to respond.

Sam picked himself up off the floor. "I…" he tried to speak but words would not come.

"GO!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Sam felt chills down his spine, a fear he never had felt before from another person. Her voice was so angry, so hateful, yet so worried and concerned. She would kill herself if she knew her goodness was shining through, especially for 'that little potato eater'.

Without further hesitation, Sam darted toward the stairwell, throwing open the door and taking the steps down dangerously fast, skipping half of them.

"Rory! Rory, wait! I'm sorry!" he yelled, but all he heard was the slam of another door. He couldn't tell which one, but he assumed it was near the bottom of the building. He didn't realize just how fast he descended the staircase until he made it to the bottom floor himself, his momentum crashing him into the wall. He shook it off and threw open the door.

The lobby was full of people. Apparently, another show choir group was staying in the same hotel and were just checking in. Another large group was also trudging through the doors, but they were all much older; some sort of old folks travel group most likely.

"Rory! Where are you? Rory!" Sam yelled, not caring that people were turning to look at him like a crazy person. "Rory!" Nobody was paying attention anymore. Nobody seemed to care about this insane man shouting for someone that seemingly either did not exist, or had left the scene.

Just when Sam felt defeated and lost, he saw his friends coming to his aid. Blaine, Kurt, Mike, Tina, Finn, and Rachel. They approached him nervously - except for Blaine, who seemed to be in charge of the situation.

"Sam, calm down," the brunette ordered. "Look, we need to get moving before he has a chance to get too far. We decided - we  _all_ decided - that we're going to help you find him," Blaine assured him, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam looked up. "I don't deserve your help," he said quietly. Tears leaked from his eyes, staining his red face.

"We can argue about dumb stuff like that later. Think of it like we're not helping you, we're helping Rory. Now, listen to Blaine," Kurt asserted

Blaine relayed to him the plan - they would go in pairs in various directions, keeping in touch via texts until they found him, or evidence of where he was going,  _anything._  If for some reason, he continued to run away, stay hot on his heels no matter what. Santana, Brittany and Puck were already scouring the hotel to see if he was anywhere in the building. If they couldn't find him within the next couple of hours, they would call the police.

-ooo-

Rory wiped his eyes for the hundredth time since leaving the hotel. His legs were burning from the trip down the stairwell. Twenty floors in no time at all, nearly jumping from case to case, whatever it took to get away.

He checked his phone. It was late afternoon. It felt later than it was, but then again being stuck in an elevator for just under three hours will throw your perception of time off. He wanted to call home, to talk to his family, but it would be late there.

He thought of another option. He pulled up an instant messaging app, signed on, and much to his relief, saw Seamus was logged in. He sent him a quick message and a moment later, his phone rang.

"Hi, Seamus," Rory said, trying to hide his despair in his voice. "How are ye'?"

"I'm good! I miss ye', Rory. It's boring around here without ye' here," the young boy said. "Why are you calling so late? Everything okay?" the boy asked, noting that the time was around eleven at night and suspicious of Rory's strange tone.

Rory held his hand over the receiver as he sniffled. "Yeah, I just missed ye'. I wanted to say hi from San Francisco, all the way in California. It's real neat here, ye'd like it a lot."

"Oh wow! Bring me something really neat!" the kid exclaimed with excitement. "And, and, and take lots of pictures! California is magical I bet!"

Rory chuckled. It felt good to laugh. The only reason he called Seamus was because his brother would make him feel better. Seamus had a way of making him laugh no matter how down he felt. "I'll be sure to take lots of pictures, and I'll find ye' something real special, okay?"

"Awesome! When are ye' coming home?" Seamus asked. "I'm so bored, Rory."

"In a few more weeks. I bet once I get there ye'll suddenly find plenty of things to do without me," the teen joked.

"Nuh uh!" Seamus argued. "Ye' have a ton of pictures and stuff from America to show me. Our visit before was awful." Rory had to agree with that. Seeing his family because he was critically injured was not how he wanted them to come see America with him.

They continued to talk for another fifteen minutes, Seamus telling him about school, the kids' football team he was on, about his teacher and her weird habits (apparently she liked to stare off into space a lot, as well as sneak in a nose-picking here and there when she thought nobody was looking). He caught Rory up on what their parents had been up to, what they were planning for vacation during the summer when Rory came home. Finally, Seamus needed to go. He was sleepy and he didn't want to get fussed at for being up so late on the phone.

"I love ye' Rory! Mam and pap do too!" the young boy declared.

"I love ye' too, boyo. Tell mam and pap I love them too," Rory replied. They said their 'good-byes' and hung up. Rory suddenly felt completely alone again. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going the entire time he was talking to his brother, but it didn't matter. He had no destination.

_I don't care if I get lost forever. It doesn't matter anymore._  The tears returned to his eyes as he recalled the entire outburst from Sam. The anger, the rage, and hurtful words.

_Sam just sees me as his girl. He doesn't even look at me like a guy. Just some girl he has to take care of. A baby. Some kid to keep track of. Why didn't he just say that before? Why did he make me think he loved me? No, maybe he does love me, but the way a parent loves a kid. That makes more sense._

Rory wasn't paying attention when he crossed the street, nor the next one. He was fortunate that no cars were coming, because if they had been, he surely would have been hit.

_Why wouldn't he let me explain? It wasn't really me fault. He wouldn't listen, though. He just yelled. And yelled and yelled. I couldn't get a word in. He just screamed at me. I never saw him so angry before. His eyes were angry. He's never looked at me that way before. It felt like he was cutting right through me._

The teen had stopped trying to control the flow of tears. It was pointless - they fell either way. He stopped at the next street corner and looked around. He had no idea how far away he was from the hotel. His legs were aching even more from walking however far he had. Across the street, was the entrance to a park. It looked peaceful. The perfect place to hide for a while.

Rory crossed the street, this time paying attention to the traffic. He walked through the archway made of brush into the park. It was beautiful. A large fountain in the middle, benches all around. Trees, bushes, topiaries, flowers everywhere. It was a place of serenity in a city filled with noise and activity.

_I want to stay here. I want to just sit somewhere, or walk around. It's just so pretty here. I could stay here until I died. Why am I thinking like that? I don't wanna die. But I can't ever face Sam again either. Not after that. Not knowing he feels the way he does. He should just leave me alone and let me rot. If I could just go home right now, I would. Go home and let him forget all about me and marry some nice girl that isn't a big pain in the arse._

Sighing with more tears in his eyes, he sat down on the grass near a topiary shaped like a frog. It made him think of the lake and the bridge back in Lima, where he would say hello to the turtles, and the ducks, and fish.  _Why can't we go back to that? The way things were then? Or has he always felt that way? We can't go back. We can never go back to that now. The damage is done, I know the truth now. I can't ever forget that, no matter how much I want to._

-ooo-

Blaine had his phone out and was rapidly pushing buttons on it. "I hope he has his phone on," he said under his breath.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked, confused and not paying full attention. He was steadily looking around for any sign of the fretting Irishman. He was fuming inside at the way Sam had acted, but had to wonder if he would have acted much differently had it been he and Blaine. He hoped so. He couldn't imagine ever going off on Blaine that way, no matter what happened.

"Rory has an iPhone, and so do I," Blaine stated as if that was explanation enough.

Kurt shrugged. "Okay, so?"

"So..." Blaine was still moving his fingers across the screen. "So, we both have that 'Find my Friends' app."

Kurt stopped in his tracks. "Wait, Find my Friends? Like where someone can check in where they're at? Why do you think he would even check in anywhere? I doubt he wants to be found right now."

"It doesn't work that way. It's like a GPS. It lets you see where any of your friends are at as long as their phone is on and you've linked apps together," Blaine explained with a grin. "This is going to be our key to finding him," he said, holding up the phone and giving it a shake.

Kurt kissed Blaine on the cheek. "You're a genius, Blaine. I expect nothing less." Kurt looked over his shoulder, peeking at the small screen. "So... where is he?"

Blaine pinched the screen, expanding the picture. "That dot right there is him."

"So, all we need to do is get there. Perfect," Kurt observed. "Uh, where is  _there_  exactly anyway?"

Blaine shrugged. "No clue. But I push this and this," he said, pushing buttons, "It gives us step by step directions."

"Genius!"

They started to walk in a comfortable silence, following the line on Blaine's phone. At this rate, it wouldn't take them too long to get to Rory.

"Oh! I better text Sam and let him know we got a lock on his location," Kurt said, pulling out his own phone. Blaine put his hand over Kurt's, signaling him to put his phone away.

"No, not yet. I have a feeling if Rory sees Sam, he's going to run again. We need to calm him down before he sees Sam," Blaine told him. It was funny just how well Blaine knew his friends and the maturity he kept in stressful situations.

"Is that why you didn't mention any of this to Sam?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"Exactly. And... I think Sam could stand to worry just a little bit," Blaine added.

Kurt frowned. "That's kind of mean, isn't it?"

Blaine shrugged. "Yes and no. He needs to think about what he said to him. He needs to realize what he did is a big deal."

"So you're saying he needs to be punished?" Kurt asked, sounding like he just might agree with him. When Blaine didn't say anything, it confirmed what Kurt was thinking. "In a strange way, I get it. Not particularly very Blaine-like, but I see your point."

Blaine gave him a half smile and held Kurt's hand. The boys exchanged glances, a silent agreement that they were thankful for what they had and that they had yet to have such a horrible event happen for them.

-ooo-

_What have I done? What was I thinking? No, I wasn't thinking at all. I was stupid. I didn't even let him explain! What the fuck is wrong with me? I yelled at him. Oh god, I yelled at him. How could I do that? I was... I was cruel. Fuck. My chest hurts. It's hard to breathe. I still feel weak and hazy. Nothing feels real. It's like a nightmare, but I know it isn't._

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, more tears streaming down his face. He frantically ran up the streets, calling out Rory's name and looking every which way. The entire time, his mind was racing with thoughts.

_He should hate me. I deserve it. I deserve whatever he dishes out. What's wrong with me, acting like that? Santana was right. I don't deserve him. I_ am _an asshole. He deserves better. Someone who won't yell at him. Someone who... someone who's worth a damn, because I'm surely not. Fuck, I don't even want to live with myself anymore. Santana was right about that, too. I disgust myself. It was all so awful. Like I wasn't even me. No matter how worried or mad I was, there's no way to justify what I said or did. If anything happens to him, I'm... I'm going to... kill...my..._

-ooo-

Rory was sitting near the topiary, gazing up at the sky through watery eyes. It had gotten dark, and the temperature had cooled a little bit. No matter, even if it got frosted over, he would have stayed right there.

His concentration on his despair was interrupted when he thought he heard familiar voices. He glanced around and spotted Blaine and Kurt coming through the archway. He was about to try and hide behind the topiary when Blaine spotted him. Rory stood up and was about to start running again, but his legs hurt so bad, and there was nowhere to go.

Rory started to run anyway. Blaine overpowered him quickly, though, and tackled him into a tight hug. Rory tried to get away at first, but Blaine just held him tighter, his arms wrapped around the teen with unknown strength. Rory struggled but tired out. He couldn't run anymore. He couldn't struggle. All he could do was let himself stand there and be hugged, beating his weak fists against Blaine's chest.

"Rory, calm down. No more running. It's gonna be okay," Blaine said soothingly to him. "Just calm down, calm down. Sam isn't here right now. He's safe, but he isn't here. It's just you and me. Kurt's outside waiting for us, but he'll wait however long he needs to."

Rory tried to mumble something, but the sobs that were pouring from his throat masked whatever words were coming out. He sobbed and sobbed, his headache turning into a migraine, his breath coming in ragged gasps, almost choking him. His strength was waning. His knees gave way and Blaine eased him down to the ground, letting him sit, but still kept his arms around the boy.

"Go ahead and cry. Cry until you can't cry anymore. Let it all out," Blaine cooed into his ear. Rory needn't be told that - he couldn't have stopped crying if he wanted to. "Cry it out, but I want you to calm down."

Blaine could feel Rory's body trembling in his arms. He was shaking, almost convulsing. After several more minutes, Rory was tiring out. His eyes couldn't cry anymore, and his chest hurt.

"If you promise not to try and run away, I'll let go of you, okay?" Blaine said softly. "You promise not to run?"

"Y-y-yes," Rory managed. Blaine unclasped his arms and settled back, both of them sitting on the grass. "Sam... Sam isn't here..." Rory said, more of a statement than a question.

Blaine shook his head. "No. He's looking for you, but he isn't right here. He needs time to think about what he did. He needs to think hard about it," the older teen assured him. "If he were here, you'd run away."

Rory didn't argue. Blaine was probably right - he most likely would have run away. The idea of seeing Sam right then was terrifying.

"Alright, just you and me here. Anything you say will stay with you and me. Nobody else. I promise," Blaine assured him. "We need to talk about this, though. You understand that, right?"

Rory nodded slowly, but didn't speak.

"I'm not going to justify what he did. I promise you that. What he did was wrong. That isn't being debated, okay?" the older teen said, lifting Rory's chin with his fingertips so that their eyes met. "We're just gonna talk. You tell me how you feel. Just get it out, because I know you want to get it off your chest."

Rory let out a deep breath. "I don't know what to say, Blaine. What am I supposed to say? What do ye' want me to say?" he asked quietly.

"Anything you want to say, Rory. You'll feel a little better if you just vocalize it, confide in someone. That's what I'm here for."

They were both silent for a minute before Rory finally broke the tension. "Why did he do that? Why did he 'ave to yell and scream and say mean things to me, Blaine? Why?"

Blaine gave him a comforting smile and put his hands on Rory's shoulders. "I want you to understand something before I answer that. I am  _not_  defending him. I think Sam was upset because he was scared. He was worried about you."

"He didn't 'ave to act like that!" Rory raised his voice. His face then turned red with embarrassment. "Sorry. I shouldn't yell at ye'. That's no better."

Blaine just smiled warmly at him and caressed the side of his head. "It's okay. But listen, you are  _everything_  to Sam. Anyone can see that, uh this incident notwithstanding. Do you remember how much he panicked when Azimio attacked you?"

"Ye-yes," Rory replied, sniffling a little.

"Sam would have died inside if you hadn't made it through okay. He  _lives_  for you. If something ever happened to you again, Sam would  _die._  You're  _everything_ to him, including his life."

Rory's eyes teared up again. "But if that's true then why did he say those things?"

"When we get angry, we say things we don't mean, and we say things in a way that isn't true to what we mean," Blaine went on. "What he said was mean. It was hurtful. It was said in fear and worry and anger. Anger that shouldn't have come out at  _you._ "

"He means those things, though, doesn't he? He wouldn't say them if he didn't," Rory protested, the tears flowing again.

"I can't answer that for him. But I can say that knowing him, knowing you, I don't think he meant them. Not in his heart."

"But..."

Blaine put his hands on Rory's shoulders again. "Try this. Look inside  _your_  heart."

Rory looked confused. "Huh?"

"You heard me, silly. Look inside your heart. Think about it. You know Sam better than anyone. Better than himself even. Do you really think, deep down, that he meant those things? What do you really believe? His angry words? Or something more than that..." Rory looked down at the ground, giving Blaine just the half second he wanted to look back over his shoulder and see Kurt, standing in the archway, playing on his phone.

"Come on, Rory, think with your heart, not with your head," the teenager urged. "Think about everything you've been through together. From the beginning... Come on, Rory, remember..."

Rory leaned back, closed his eyes, and forced himself to think like Blaine was telling him to. He remembered the first time he met Sam. He thought about their hang outs together that led up to their first kiss. He recalled their first time making love. He remembered the holidays with Sam and his family. Sam refusing to leave his side at the hospital. His birthday and how Sam had planned a special party for him. He thought about the bridge and Sam's analogy to  _Avatar_ , their babysitting the kids together, talking about having kids someday. Their week's vacation at the cabin. He remembered the prom - how Sam had made sure everything was perfect. He thought about how Sam kissed him goodnight  _every single night_  and goodbye  _every single time they parted._  How Sam held his hand  _every_ chance he got. The gentle kisses they shared. The little things, like Sam opening the door for him, or letting him go first whenever they did an activity, or letting him choose their movies or games, carrying his books, walking him to class, randomly texting him with cute little messages. How Sam never denied that Rory was his boyfriend and the pride Sam took in just saying the words. All of these things came rushing into his head, one after the other, over and over in a vicious cycle, flashing behind his eyes.

The only people who did those kind of loving things was a person who loved someone. Only a person devoted to someone else did that. Only someone who  _lived_  for someone else, would do those things. All of those wonderful things, memories, so many of them happy. They assaulted his heart like an imaginary army, drawing out every ounce of truth that was there.

Rory finally gazed up at Blaine, his eyes red and raw, tears streaming yet again as he sniffled. They flowed, but for once they were tears of pleasant memories, not tears of pain.

"Bringing back memories, right? Your heart's guiding you now, as cheesy as it sounds." The crooner couldn't help but chuckle. It got Rory to actually smile a little more.

"Yeah. So many. So many happy things. Things I could never forget. Things that should never give me doubts about him." Rory blinked his tears away, then wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. "What now?" he asked, knowing Blaine had no answer.

"You mean, should you forgive him?" Blaine asked. Rory nodded. "Dunno. That's not my call. That's all on you. You need to talk to him though. Give him the chance to speak, even though he didn't give it to you. Be the bigger man there."

The young Irishman nodded his head and sighed. "Blaine, I'm scared. What do I do? He really hurt me. What if... what if I..."

"No 'what ifs' Rory. Nobody can tell you what to do. Nobody can make that decision. The only thing anyone can do is tell you to talk to him. Your heart will tell you what to do then," Blaine assured him.

Blaine felt his phone buzzing on his hip. He snuck a peek at it - a message from Kurt.

_He's here._

"Rory? Sam's here now. He's outside the archway with Kurt. If you want to talk to him, I'll let him come in. If you don't, then tell me, and Kurt will take him back to the hotel and I'll stay with you," Blaine told him, his voice calm.

Rory gulped. His eyes searched Blaine's face for answer, but found none. He would get no help here - everything from that moment on depended on his own decisions.

"Let him... let him come... I'll talk to him," Rory stated sullenly, trying to focus on his memories and not on his pain.

"Promise me two things, Rory. One - you won't run away. And two, you'll let him say his piece," Blaine stated, looking him in the eyes.

Rory nodded his head. "I promise. No running. No interrupting." He stood up and wrapped his arms around Blaine and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank ye' so much, Blaine. Ye' and Kurt, ye'r great friends. I'm so very blessed."

"You're a great guy, Rory. You'll be okay, whatever happens. Kurt and I will wait outside the archway until you're ready to go. Whatever the result, I'll see to it you make it back safe and sound." Blaine gave him an affectionate smile then turned toward the arch.

"Remember, think with your heart, not your head," Blaine reminded him, then walked away, disappearing through the archway.

A moment later, a tall blonde appeared beneath the archway, looking like his soul was crushed. "Can I come over?" came Sam's voice cracking.

Rory nodded his head, and Sam approached him. When they were about three feet apart, Sam spoke again. Rory could see his eyes were raw, his face was flushed and splotchy. His lips were chapped. He looked horrible. "Can I... Can I hug you?"

"Yes," was Rory's simple reply. "Ye' never 'ave to ask me, Sam." Sam threw his arms around the boy, squeezing tight, happy to hear Rory's response.

Sam's voice was muffled as he sobbed into Rory's shoulder. He was trying to say something but it was unintelligible. Rory could feel the top of his shirt actually dampening from the tears.

When Sam finally regained composure, he stood back again and looked Rory in the eyes. Those once beautiful blue eyes that had never once asked for a harsh word, but had been given so many only hours before. The bright blue of Rory's eyes had faded to a color that resembled a slate gray, matching his despairing soul. It was a sight that horrified Sam. He felt like he was losing him.

"I don't know where to start," Sam stuttered. "I don't know if I even should. You have every right to hate me. I wouldn't blame you one bit, but right now you couldn't hate me as much as I hate myself."

Rory swallowed. He was trying his best to keep the eye contact, to keep himself from going into more convulsive sobs.

"I'm really glad you're safe. And... I'm sorry. For everything," Sam said, his voice cracking. "No amount of apologies can ever make up for what I said to you. I was unreasonable and cruel. I wish.. I wish I could take it all back." Sam was shivering despite the fact it wasn't cold out.

"I should have let you explain. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I shouldn't have embarrassed you in front of everyone," Sam went on. "You deserve someone so much better than me, Rory. Someone who wouldn't ever make you cry again."

Still, the young Irishman was silent, his stare going blank. Sam felt like the more he spoke, the more he was losing him.

"Please, say something," he pleaded.

The young teen took a deep breath. "Ye' really hurt me, Sam. Ye' hurt me down to me heart. I feel like ye' stabbed me right in the chest."

Sam hung his head, tears flowing again. "I know. I was cruel. I.. I understand if..." he couldn't say the words. He couldn't bear the idea. The concept was lunacy.

"Me brain says one thing, and me heart says another," Rory said, his voice even. Sam's face was filled with worry. He knew what those two conflicting choices were. "Me brain says to break up with ye'. It says ye' hurt me so bad, I shouldn't forgive ye', and to let ye' go. It says I should hate you."

Sam was silent. He felt like he had been shot just hearing the words even leave the boy's mouth. He started to tremble as he feared what Rory's choice may be. He then felt a weak hand on his cheek.

"But me heart says I should forgive ye'. It says this was a horrible thing, but that I should give ye' another chance." Sam started to look hopeful as he covered Rory's hand with his own, feeling slightly more secure at the tactile contact.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," Sam whispered softly.

Rory closed the distance between them and leaned into Sam's chest, resting his head there. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Sam. If I can give Azimio a second chance, I can give ye' one." Sam's eyes lit up, the green returning to them.

"Do you mean that? That I get a second chance?"

Rory was silent a moment, making Sam begin to worry that he was about to change his mind.

"Yes. Ye' said some harsh words, Sam. Ye' hurt me bad. Ye' humiliated me in front of e'eryone. Ye' said I act like a girl. Ye' threw things up in me face that were not only mean, but unfair. Ye' made me feel like I was a chore, a pain, an obligation." Rory paused a moment for it to sink in to Sam's head just how awful he had made him feel.

"Rory..." Sam started. "All that... after all that. I really was that cruel to you. You're my boyfriend. How could I-? Oh god, I feel sick," he trailed off, color draining from his face as the severity of the hurtful words began to fester inside him.

"Blaine made me stop thinking with me head. He told me to think with me heart, and I did. I thought about all the things we been through together. How ye' always been at me side, no matter what."

"Even with all that, it doesn't erase what I did to you. Nothing can erase that. You have to know, I regret those words so much. If I had to die to take them back, I would do it in a heart beat. You have to know I love you so much, Rory. More than my life. I only give you everything because I love you, because I want to. I would give you so much more if I could," Sam pleaded.

Sam held onto him tighter still, guarding his reclaimed treasure- a treasure he didn't deserve, but was allowed to keep anyway. A treasure whose brightness shone through even the darkest of days.

"Ye'r kind actions betray ye'r harsh words, Sam. For that, ye' should be  _very_  thankful."

"That sounds way over my head but something tells me I should be glad about that," Sam chuckled. "Oh god Rory, if you only knew how much I love you. There's never enough I can do to prove it to you now. I'm so scared, Rory."

Rory pulled back. "Scared o' what, Sam?"

Sam sighed. "Of losing you. That something might happen to you. If I ever lost you, I think I would wither and die inside. I already feel like I died a little bit when I said those things to you." Rory latched onto him again. "You don't have to forgive me, ever. But please let me love you, forever," Sam pleaded. "Please, let me love you so much, that it takes every bit of pain I caused you away."

"Sam, I love ye'. I want us to get through this, put it behind us. Move on." Rory's breathing had slowed down again. He was starting to feel calmer, more at peace. "I want to do it together, though. Ye' and me." he sniffled and wiped his eyes again. Sam could feel him in his arms, his body weak. "I want... I want the memory of this day to go away forever. I know it can't, but when I look back on it, I want to remember that ye' only said ye'r words out of concern and fear."

Sam sniffled. "I was so scared I had lost you. I was so scared, and I let my fear make me do something irrational. Then, I thought I lost you again when you ran away. Rory, I don't ever want to lose you. You are  _everything_ to me. I promise I will do whatever it takes to make you happy.  _Anything_."

Rory stroked his cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the nervous heat. He traced his fingers over Sam's chapped lips, and then sighed a contented sound. He was so tired. Tired of stressing, tired of running, tired of everything. His body ached. He was hungry, weak. Sam could feel it in his arms. Rory was barely keeping his strength up.

"You're tired. Exhausted. You need some rest," Sam observed. "So do I, for that matter. Do you think you can walk back okay?"

"Yeah. But Sam? Can we stop and eat somewhere? I'm starved and haven't eaten since breakfast. "

Sam smiled. "Yeah, yeah I'm hungry too. I think I can eat now that I know you're safe."

They hugged again, then kissed. Not a kiss of lust, or arousal, or desire. No, it was a kiss that said many more things than that - It said 'I'm sorry', 'Keep me safe', 'I love you', 'I forgive you'.

They took a seat on the bench for a minute, wiping each other's tears from their faces. Rory took out the tube of ChapStick he kept in his pocket and applied it to Sam's puffy lips.

"We need to get going. Blaine and Kurt are waiting, and it's getting late," Sam said. "I'll carry you if I have to."

Rory smiled. "No, I think I'll be okay. I just need food. Let's go."

As they walked back to the exit to meet up with Kurt and Blaine, Rory's hand found Sam's, lacing their fingers together. It felt so good to both of them to have each other's hands again. Rory's soft fingers, and Sam's rougher fingers from plucking guitar strings and throwing footballs, intertwined in love.

"By the way, Sam, don't  _ever_  liken me to a girl again," Rory stated sternly. "That's  _your_  role,  _Neytiri_ ," he finished with a laugh, recalling their conversation weeks before.

"I totally deserved that," Sam replied, smiling. He pulled their hands up to his lips and kissed the back of Rory's soft skinned hand. "You're every bit the man, much, much more than me."

"I know," Rory said, grinning playfully. Sam smiled back, feeling like he had just saved a critical piece of his life.

Upon seeing them holding hands, neither Blaine nor Kurt had to ask how things went. The two boys just looked at each other and smiled. They had made success. They had reunited Sory Flanevans.

-ooo-

The four teens returned to the hotel around eight in the evening. Upon reaching their respective hotel rooms, there was a note left for them, from Mr. Schuester.

_My room. 9PM. Do NOT be late. - Mr. Schuester_

"Uh oh," Sam said upon seeing the note. "That doesn't sound good."

Taking advantage of the forty-five minutes they had before meeting Mr. Schue, the boys took a chance to breathe easy. They had sent out texts while they ate to alert everyone of their safety. Sam even sent one to Santana, thanking her for verbally kicking his ass. They sat on the bed next to each other and just held hands, the TV playing, but neither of them really paying attention to it. The others were hanging out in the girls' rooms, playing card games and watching movies.

-ooo-

Will Schuester sat in his hotel room, wracking his brain over what to do. He had heard all about the elevator incident and the fight, as well as the great search, and was not pleased in the least. The elevator was nobody's fault, and that didn't bother him, but the outburst, the fight, the running away - that was entirely the fault of emotional teenagers. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud rap on the door.

"Come in, gentlemen," he said as he opened the door, his voice low and stern. "Have a seat," he offered, pointing toward the small table with two chairs. The two teens stayed silent as they sat down, the tension thick in the air.

"I'm sure you two know why we're meeting here," their teacher stated, rather than asked. They nodded in unison. "First of all, I'm glad you're both safe, but that shouldn't have to be an issue."

Sam raised his hand and started to speak. "Please, Mr. Schue, none of this is Rory's fault, it was all mine. Don't be upset with him," he begged.

Mr. Schue stayed silent until Sam finished. "Sam, you need to realize that Rory is responsible for his own actions, just like you are, and with actions come consequences."

The teacher turned his attention to Rory. "I don't blame you for the elevator at all. This has nothing to do with that. The problem was you leaving the building, alone, without telling anyone where you were going."

"But that wasn't his fault, it was me!" Sam protested.

"Sam," Mr. Schue held his hand up for silence. "Rory, you were upset, I understand that. But you have to see it from my stance as well. I am responsible for every student here. I am responsible for your safety, your lives, your well being. By leaving alone, without telling anyone where you were going, it not only put yourself in a very dangerous situation, but it also puts me in one."

Rory hung his head in shame, his face turning red from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, sir. I was so upset, I didn't think."

"I understand that, and I'm sorry it happened. But there are still consequences." He then turned toward Sam. "As for you, Sam, your outburst in the hall was inexcusable. The hotel actually got complaints from customers about the noise, and to treat another student that way, boyfriend, friend, or enemy, is unprofessional in the entertainment world, and inexcusable by my personal standards."

"Yes, Mr. Schue. I'm sorry," Sam said, also hanging his head. It was bad enough everything that had happened, but now they were facing a sentence. "So are we kicked off the glee club now?"

Mr. Schuester shook his head. "No. That would forgo nationals, and we all worked too hard for that. It's unfair to punish everyone for your actions. Realistically, do you understand that the proper punishment for this is a week suspension?"

Sam and Rory exchanged nervous looks. There was no way they could explain a suspension to Sam's parents, or Rory's.

"However, there are two things that bother me about that," Mr. Schue began. "Sam, you graduate in a couple of weeks. It's almost pointless to suspend you, especially for a week. Rory, if I suspend you, your visa will be declined for next year, and you can't return here. I don't want that."

"What are you gonna do, sir?" Rory asked nervously.

"You both are going to have detention every day for the next two weeks. That's going a lot easier on you than I should, but like I said," Mr. Schue revealed.

"I'll miss me last swim meet next Friday," Rory said, not really arguing, but just stating a fact. It was the only swim meet on a weekday, but it was also the final meet of the semester.

Mr. Schue nodded his head. "Yes, you will. I suppose you better take that up with Coach Roz. It's up to her whether you compete or not; I don't make that call. If she feels you deserve that opportunity, she'll work something out with me."

Rory nodded, fearing that he wouldn't be allowed to participate. He couldn't complain though - he had broken the rules, put himself in danger, worried everyone to death, and put Mr. Schue at risk as well. He was  _very_  lucky he wasn't getting suspended.

"You guys can go. On Monday, I'll send home your detention slips to be signed by Sam's parents." Both boys felt chills down their spines. There was going to be no way to explain their actions without the whole story getting out. Rehashing that tragic event was going to be worse than the detentions.

"Thank ye' sir for not suspending us," Rory said as they got up to leave.

"I'm not an unreasonable man, Rory. You have to be punished, not banned from the country," Mr. Schue stated, letting a half smile escape his lips. "I really am glad you're safe. Now get back to your rooms. You two are on lockdown the rest of the trip."

The two boys left the room, feeling defeated but at the same time relieved the punishment wasn't worse. Had it been Coach Sylvester, they would have been suspended or expelled, no questions asked. She would have even delighted in it.

"If we're on lockdown I guess that means we gotta stay in our rooms. We need some rest anyway before tomorrow. Big day for us all, right?" Sam asked, smiling. They stood in front of the door to Rory's room. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much."

"Shhh," Rory silenced him. "Let's move past it. Good night, Sammy. I love ye'."

Sam found himself better able to sleep, having heard Rory use his pet name for him once again; something he hadn't done since the entire ordeal took place. It meant Rory was forgiving him; something he felt he didn't deserve but was thankful for. Rory had a pure heart to forgive him, and Sam would never forget that.

-ooo-

Morning came far too soon. The performances were starting at eleven, but New Directions wasn't scheduled until one. They still had to get up and prepared for the opening statements and to watch the other performances.

It was overwhelming and intimidating seeing so many other glee clubs from all over the country. Each group was limited to two songs, and their entire performance couldn't go past ten minutes, including setup and tear down. It was the only way they could manage to fit every single performance within a day.

When it was finally time for New Directions to go on, Mr. Schue led them in a huddle, amping them up for the big moment.

"Okay guys, we've made it to nationals, again. We made it this far before, we can do it again and better. Go out there and do your thing. I have every bit of confidence in each and every one of you," he said, making eye contact with each student as he spoke. Mr. Schue had pushed them so hard in the last several weeks that there was no doubt they would win better than twelfth place this year. Even if it was only eleventh place, it was improvement, and as long as there was improvement, that's what mattered.

Mr. Schue skittered back behind the curtain and watched as his twelve children, his family, went out on stage; most of them for the last time. He would be lying if he said he didn't tear up at the thought of the final performance as the original New Directions.

"Announcing, from McKinley High in Lima, Ohio… The New Directions!" came the booming voice of the announcer over the loud speaker. There were cheers and screams from the auditorium before they even began – a sign that people did remember them, and liked them. This year there would be no surprise kissing to lose them a place.

Their performances were top notch. The best the New Directions had ever done together. The seniors did a group number by themselves – a send off and changing of the guard to their friends who would step up to take their places. They sang  _Never Forget_  by Lena Katina, former member of t.A.T.u. It was a good song choice – about moving on but always having respect for each other, despite their differences. Granted, Lena referred to the splitting up of their duo, but for the New Directions, it symbolized the moving on of the senior class. No matter what their differences with each other they would always have respect for one another on a professional level. It was a very emotional performance, leaving nary a dry eye in the entire club. Thankfully, nobody was able to tell they were tearing up.

Their second number that included the entire club was  _Ready to Go_  by Republica. It was lively, a direct contrast to their first number. In a way it complemented it – showing that they were all ready to move forward, embrace the future, even if the song was just a simple fun pop piece.

When the New Directions were finished, the cheers were loud and seemingly never ending. There were standing ovations, whistles, everything. They were all out of breath, and emotionally spent, but that moment was  _theirs_ , the moment nobody could ever take away from them. Twelve teenagers with dreams and ambitions, giving everything they could to take home a title.

The easy part was over. The hard part was yet to come – the announcement of the winners. Like the previous year, the winners were not actually announced in the same fashion as smaller scale competitions onstage. Instead, they were posted on a plaque during an intermission, and then there was an award ceremony for the top three after that. The waiting was the hardest part of all.

-ooo-

"It's posted!" cried Finn excitedly as he saw the judges uncover the placement plaque. The twelve students all joined hands with each other. It didn't matter who was holding who, as long as they were together.

"What's it say, Mr. Schue?" Finn asked in an instance of déjà vu. The scene seemed to play out almost frame for frame just as it had the year before. Mr. Schuester dragged his finger down the plaque, checking the names. One, two, three, four, five. Five; the New Directions.

"Fifth place," Mr. Schuester said.

The students were quiet, unsure of how to react. The year before they placed twelfth; a joke if anything. This year they moved up eight slots. Major improvement on their part.

"Fifth place, hell yeah!" Santana yelled with a cheer of excitement. The others started to cheer as well, realizing just how wonderful it was to have at least made it in the top five.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the students jumped up and down, tears were flowing, shouts of congratulations were heard all around. Hugs everywhere, nobody knew who hugged who. It didn't matter. They were together, and they placed fifth, together, as a family.

That night they shared dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the city, courtesy of Sugar's father. He was so proud of his baby girl, he knew that next year they would surely win first with his daughter in the lead.

Everyone traded stories from the past three years – everything from the creation of the glee club, to Sue's various plots to ruin them. Quinn's pregnancy. The various couples. Past performances – competitions and personal. They talked about Kurt leaving and coming back, the prom from last year and this year. They talked about plans for the future, what they intended to do after graduation. It was filled with excitement, but at the same time, there was the silent notion of the fact that in a couple of weeks, over half of them were leaving, and there would be only half of a family left.

-ooo-

Packing up and going home was quite an ordeal. Who knew that students could make such a headache of getting their things together and getting ready in time to catch a flight back home. Last year, there had been so much tension between them all that nobody spoke the entire flight. This time there was peace, comfortable silences, friendly conversations. It was nothing like before. It was nothing but affection for each other. Respect.

-ooo-

"Welcome home!" Mr. and Mrs. Evans cried out when their boys arrived back home Sunday evening. The two children attacked them, hugging them for dear life. Sam and Rory recounted their performances, leaving out the entire incident at the hotel.

They had missed dinner, but Mrs. Evans had saved them something to eat – peanut butter sandwiches. After the kids went to sleep, it was time to do the next hardest thing they would have to do.

Mr. Evans was sitting in his recliner, watching TV, his wife sitting on the couch, reading a book on her Kindle. Sam and Rory filed in, somber looks on their faces.

"What's with you two? You look like someone died. Cheer up, you won fifth place already," Mr. Evans teased. When neither boy laughed, he knew something was up.

Sam and Rory sat down on the couch next to their mother, holding hands between them. "We uh, we need to talk to you guys about something," Sam said bravely. He had decided that he would be the one to break the news to his parents, since he felt fully responsible for the entire thing. He couldn't stand the idea of them being upset with Rory, and if he could pass him off as a hapless victim of bad fortune, then it would be wonderful.

Mrs. Evans set her book down and her husband muted the TV and sat up. "Alright son, what's going on?" he asked in an even tone.

Sam took a deep breath. "Well, not everything went so well on the trip. You see…" he paused a moment, gathering the courage to tell them the truth. "Well, we had an argument. It was kind of heated, and I said some things using bad language, Rory got upset and needed some time alone."

"Is everything okay now? I mean, you're holding hands, you seem fine," Mrs. Evans observed, worry in her voice.

"Yes, ma'am. E'erything is fine now. We made up. We put it past us," Rory replied. Sam looked at him, urging him to speak no more, as agreed.

"So then what's with the depressed looks?" Mr. Evans asked, suspecting there was way more to the story than he was being told.

Sam took another deep breath. "Mr. Schue gave us both detention. For two weeks."

"What?" Mr. Evans asked, raising his voice slightly. His wife shot him a glare to remind him the kids were asleep. "What exactly got you detentions, boys? Especially for two weeks?"

"Mr. Schue said my language wasn't acceptable. And it wasn't. I was really loud and a jerk. Nobody should have heard me talk like that, especially Rory. I hurt him, dad. I can't forgive myself for that." Sam lowered his head again, feeling his face flush with humiliation for admitting his mistake.

"Anyway, swearing as much as I did usually gets a suspension, but Mr. Schue said he would settle for detentions," Sam explained. A tear fell from his eye as he finished his confession.

Mr. Evans nodded his head slowly, processing the information. "And Rory? What did you do?"

"He-" Sam began.

"He can answer, son," his father interrupted sharply. Sam gulped and silenced himself immediately. His father was angry, but one thing that was good about Mr. Evans was that even when angry, he kept a calm demeanor and a cool head. He wasn't an unreasonable man, but he was firm and direct.

"I left the hotel, sir. I walked to the park without telling anyone. I should 'ave taken someone with me and told someone where I was going. Mr. Schuester said he wouldn't suspend me either, because it might keep me from coming back next year," Rory admitted, hanging his head in shame. To him, it was more embarrassing to admit fault to his host family that to his own father. With his own father he simply confessed his misbehavior and then took his punishment without ceremony. Over his knee he went until his father was satisfied and then it was done. Mr. Evans had no intent to do such a thing, instead a look of utter disappointment and sadness crossed his face.

"I'm so sorry. I really am. I wish I could take it all back," Rory said quietly. "I'm ashamed."

Mr. Evans looked at his wife as if they were speaking through their eyes. She nodded her approval of whatever silent agreement they had.

"Well, boys, it looks like Mr. Schuester has been very kind to you both. You're lucky. Very lucky," Mr. Evans stated evenly. Both boys looked at each other, then back at Mr. Evans.

"You're both grounded for the next two weeks. After detention, you come right home. No hanging out, no going anywhere. Just come home. Sam, as soon as work is over you come straight home. You're on house arrest until graduation."

Rory said a silent prayer of thanks that the punishment was not worse than that. The only thing worse would have been being apart from Sam.

"Any questions? Comments? Concerns?" the grown man asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rory spoke up. "Uhm, are ye' going to tell me parents?"

Mr. Evans nodded his head. "I think it's the right thing to do, son. I wouldn't want it kept from me if it were the other way around. If you prefer, you can tell them yourself, but you have until Friday to do so. If you haven't by then, I'll have to do it. Agreed? That fair?"

"Yes, sir. Thank ye'." Rory said sadly. He knew his father would be angry with him. He had to wonder what would happen when he got home. Would his father have gotten over it? Or would he still have to face more consequences?

"Okay then, if that's all, go on to your room. It's almost time to hit the hay anyhow."

The two boys changed for bed without saying much. They were tired emotionally and had severe jet lag.

"Do you think your dad will be angry?" Sam asked as they lay in bed, his arms wrapped around his boyfriend. He felt Rory nod against his chest.

"He will be  _very_  upset. One o' the last things he said to me before I left Ireland was not to get into any trouble, 'or else'. Me pap doesn't make threats, he means it when he says 'or else.'" Rory answered, his voice cracking just a little bit.

"Well... what's he gonna do?" Sam asked nervously. "Shut off your phone? Take away your games or computer?"

Rory shook his head. "No. That would be easy."

Sam was confused. What else was there to do? House arrest? "Then what? Surely he isn't gonna whack you."

"That's exactly what he will do."

"You're kidding me. You're sixteen! That stuff doesn't happen past age ten or something," Sam protested.

Rory shook his head again, trembling. "Discipline is a little stricter."

Sam scrunched up his face. "Well, it can't be that bad, can it? I mean, I slap you on the ass all the time."

"Yeah, for playing around. A belt isn't exactly a turn on," Rory stated flatly.

Sam was horrified. "A belt? Seriously? That's... child abuse or something!"

Rory shrugged. "It's his way. He'll go until the belt gives me tears. 'To learn me lesson'."

Sam frowned and hugged the boy closer. "I don't like the idea of him hitting you. It's  _wrong. Barbaric._ "

Rory snuggled up against him, secure in Sam's arms. "I grew up with that kind of discipline. So does Seamus. I'll be alright. I promise. As long as I 'ave ye' I can handle anything."

"I love you, Ror. Be brave my little Irishman. Don't be scared, I'll be right there with you in spirit," Sam declared.

"Thanks. I love ye' too. So very much," Rory said, yawning. It didn't take long for them to fall asleep, despite the looming fear of telling Rory's father about the detentions.

 


	25. Episode 25: As We Go On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Final episode of Season 1. I'll be taking a short break before starting Season 2. Be sure to add a story/author alert so that you will be notified when it starts. It will be added onto this same story with the naming format Episode 26: S2 Episode Title so be on the lookout for that. :) I want to thank everyone who has supported this story with their reviews, messages, reading it, everything. It's really encouraging to have so much feedback when writing, and if you are someone who has dabbled with the idea of writing a fic, DO IT. It's addicting, fun, and even if it doesn't turn out just right, you can always keep working to improve your skills. If you have an idea, put it into writing! I can't wait to start Season 2, and if you have any plot ideas, things you would like to see, etc. just send me a message and it will be taken into consideration. :)_ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit:** SkewedReality

**Recap:**  New Directions went to Nationals, but before they performed, Rory and Puck got stuck in an elevator, and Sam was worried when he couldn't find Rory and went off on him, so Rory ran away until Blaine and Kurt found him and convinced him to talk to Sam, so after they talked, they made up and then went on to win 5th place. When they got home, they had to fess up for their 2 weeks detention for the drama they caused, and Sam's folks put them on house arrest and Rory had to tell his dad by the end of the week and that's what you missed on Glee!

-ooo-

**Episode 25: As We Go On**

Rory decided not to put off calling his father any longer than necessary. He knew his father would ask when it happened, and if he told him that it was this past weekend, and he had waited too long, he would be in even more trouble.

"Sammy, can I please talk to me pap in private? I'm kind o' embarrassed," Rory admitted, a faint blush over his cheeks. Sam thought it a strange request since Rory usually spoke in Gaelic with his father, but he respected his wishes anyhow.

It was about twenty minutes before Rory ushered him back inside the room. Sam noticed right away that his eyes were a little reddened. He said nothing, but wrapped his arms around his Irishman in a tight embrace.

When they finally let go, Sam inquired as to how it went.

"He was upset. I just told him straight away that I had gotten into trouble," Rory relayed.

"What did he say?" Sam asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Rory sighed. "Exactly what I thought he would. 'Ye' know the punishment, me son. Ye' may as well expect it the second ye'r back home.'" he answered, imitating his father's voice.

Sam frowned. "I really don't like this. It makes me sick to think he's gonna do that. To Seamus, too." He hugged him again, nuzzling his chin in Rory's hair.

"That was the way it was in his home growing up, and it's the way now with us. Me and Seamus I mean,' Rory explained sadly. "The funny thing is, even though he was mad, after he said all that, he still asked how Nationals went, and what ye' were doing for graduation. I guess it's kind of nice, though, how even if he's upset, he still cares about the other stuff."

"I still don't like it. It's... it's bullshit, is what it is," Sam said softly. "I guess there's nothing I can do, huh?"

Rory shook his head. "No. Just don't worry about it. I'll call ye' when it's over, so ye' can cheer me up. How about that?"

Sam smiled. "Deal." Sam made a mental note to be mindful of not slapping his boyfriend on the rear anymore, even if being playful. He didn't like the association of one with the other.

  
**-** ooo **-**  


Detention with Mr. Schuester wasn't exactly the worst thing in the world. Two weeks worth was a little boring, but it could have been a lot worse. The first day, he instructed Sam and Rory to write essays explaining exactly  _why_  they were in detention in the first place and reasons why their behavior was unacceptable. Then Tuesday they had to write an essay on the importance of glee and how it helped them grow as people and how it effects them personally. That was less of a punishment and more of an introspective reflection.

The rest of the week, Mr. Schue assigned Rory to put together a report on his experiences in America, how it helped him to grow as a person, and what he intended to accomplish junior year back in America. Friday he was to present it to them, complete with visual aids and a handout. Rory actually found that to be much more on the fun side and less on the punishment end of things as it was something he could take home to his family and share as well. He even worked on the project while Sam was at work and he on house arrest. By the time he was done, he had printed out a ridiculous number of pictures, put captions on them, and written essays until his hands hurt.

Considering that Rory had only two full days to work on it, he turned in a report that was near twenty pages of writing and another twenty of captioned pictures. Mr. Schuester was so impressed that he told Rory he would allow him to skip the next Friday's detention so he could compete in the swim meet.

Sam was impressed as well. "You didn't have to do that much. He only said five pages and a few pictures. You turned in a textbook!" he exclaimed, looking over the pictures again. "This is amazing."

Rory beamed. "It was actually kind of fun. I couldn't do much of anything else anyway, and it's something I can keep forever. There were a few pages I didn't put in there, though," he said with a sheepish smile.

Sam cocked his head to the side, curious. Rory took out his notebook and pulled out a a group pages held together with a binder clip. He handed it to Sam, blushing a little.

Sam unclasped the pages and took the blank one off the top. He started to read the essay on top, printed specifically in large font.

_The best part of my American journey, however, was meeting my best friend, Sam Evans. We became good friends right away. He welcomed me into his home and his family, and showed me how to experience things in America. He watched over me when I went through some rough times, and I watched over him. He has become a very important part of me life, and my trip to America has been amazing, largely in part to Sam and his family. He is not only me best friend, but me boyfriend. Sam is me true experience of America._

The following pages were filled with pictures, most of them taken from their vacation, birthdays, and prom. A few were random candid shots of the two of them. It brought a tear to Sam's eye.

"This is beautiful," was all Sam could muster up the nerve to say.

"Thanks," Rory replied, smiling brightly.

Sam flipped through the pictures again. "Why did you leave it out, though?" he asked, a little bewildered.

"Because it's not for Mr. Schuester to understand. It's not a memory for him to 'ave. It's  _my_  memory, to share with who I want to," Rory said, kissing Sam on the cheek. "See, I even made the type bigger so ye' couldn't have as much trouble readin' it."

"Only  _you_  would think to do that. Can I keep this?"

Rory nodded his head. "Yes, I made it for ye'," the teen said. "Ye' can look at it while I'm back home."

"You did all this for me, even after what I-" Rory placed his finger over Sam's lips and stared him in the eyes.

"How can we put that in the past if ye' keep bringing it up? That's not a memory to keep, so let it be where it is," the young man instructed. His eyes were bright and kind, giving Sam the warmth he loved but felt unworthy of having.

Sam hung his head a little. "I know, it's just hard for me to let go of it. I still have guilt," he said sullenly.

"Ye'r gonna 'ave to forgive ye'rself someday, Sammy. If I can forgive ye', then should ye'. Now stop ruining the moment, this is happy time!" Rory corrected him, giving a playful punch into his shoulder. Sam simply smiled and leaned over to kiss him.

Sam, on the other hand, had to spend the rest of his week writing essays for college applications that he had no real intention of turning in. They were far too late to be turning in for a serious consideration anyhow.

-ooo-

"Can I come in?" Mr. Evans asked, knocking on his sons' bedroom door. Rory invited him in, giving him a friendly smile.

"I want to talk to you a second if that's okay," Mr. Evans said, sitting down on the desk chair. Rory took a seat on the edge of the bed, suddenly unnerved about what the conversation might entail.

"Is e'erything okay, sir?" the nervous teen asked.

Mr. Evans only half-nodded. "I'm afraid I owe you an apology."

Rory was bewildered. "For what? Ye' aven't done anything to me."

His host father sighed and hung his shoulders. "I did, inadvertently. Sam told me about your father. About his methods of... discipline, so he called it." Rory's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "Don't be embarrassed. There's no shame in it for you. I want to apologize though, for making you tell him. If I knew that's how he would handle it, I never would have insisted."

Rory was even more confused. "But ye' said it was the right thing to do. That ye' wouldn't want it kept from ye' either," he replied.

Mr. Evans sighed. "I know that's what I said. But... I don't agree with that kind of punishment. I'll spare you my personal opinions about it, but they largely echo what Sam already told you. If I knew he was going to hit you, I would never have made you call."

Rory stood up and hugged Mr. Evans, much to the man's surprise. "I don't hold it against ye'. It's just how things are in me home. He grew up that way, too. Ye' were right in telling me to tell him. It  _is_  the right thing to do, even if I don't like it."

Mr. Evans looked like he wanted to cry. "Son, you are far too mature for your age. I'm sorry you'll have to go through that. No chance on changing his mind? What if I talked to him?"

Rory half-smiled. "That might only make it worse. Once he declares a sentence, there's no goin' back. I'll be alright, just like I told Sammy."

Mr. Evans smiled meekly and stood up. "You're a good man, Rory." he turned and left the room, guilt obviously still hanging on his shoulders.

-ooo-

The second week of detention was even easier than the first. Being the end of the school year, Mr. Schue had Sam and Rory help with cleaning things up before the summer, including a thorough cleaning of the choir room. Cleaning instruments and chairs was far less irritating that thinking of things to put in an essay, despite the fact it wasn't exactly fun.

By the time Friday rolled around, the choir room had never looked so good. Not only was it pristinely clean, but they had reorganized the file cabinets as well. Mr. Schue had already excused Rory from his final detention, so it wasn't much of a surprise when Sam reported to the room, that Mr. Schuester had a surprise for him.

"So what's on the menu today, Mr. Schue?" Sam asked, wondering what could possibly be left to do.

"For your final detention of your high school career, Sam, your assignment is to accompany me to the Aquatorium," Mr. Schuester replied with a mischievous smile.

Sam's face lit up. He had been very upset he was going to miss Rory's final swim meet. "You mean it? I can go see the meet?"

"Yes, Sam, you can go to the meet. But you have to sit with me, you know, as part of the punishment and all," the teacher replied. It wasn't really part of the punishment, but it was probably the last activity he would get to spend with Sam, who had, over the two years he was at McKinley, become one of his favorite students.

"Before we go, though, I wanna say something," Mr. Schuester said. Sam gave him his full attention, happy now that he was getting what he wanted. "I'm really gonna miss you, Sam. You're one of the best singers we've had, and really, one of the nicest teenagers I ever met. I'm glad to have had the honor to be your glee club sponsor."

Sam smiled and hugged the man. It meant a lot to hear that, not just because he was a teacher, but because it was Mr. Schue; a man he had grown to admire professionally and in talent. "Rory's in good hands next year, Mr. Schue."

The two men made their way down the hall toward the aquatorium, a comfortable silence between them. Other than the graduation ceremony, this was the final event he would attend as a student of McKinley High, and he was glad to spend it with his favorite teacher.

-ooo-

As always, the Aquatorium was packed, nary a free seat in the bleachers. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had taken off work early so they could bring the kids and see Rory's final meet of the season.

This meet was for the advanced swimmers only. It wasn't going to be a huge event like past ones, hence the fact it was on a weekday. Rory paced nervously in front of the bench, anxious to get the race over with. There were three events, with ten competitors from each of the three schools. He looked up at the stands, not expecting to see Sam up there, Mr. Schuester right next to him. His face brightened immediately, Sam waving to him when they met eyes.

After the usual opening commentary and pledge, the first event began. Rory and Vinny were the top competitors for McKinley, and Rory took first place in the event. The second event he came in third, but the final race Rory passed the other racers, including Vinny, by less than six inches.

When the Irish fish came up out of the water he could hear cheering, numerous people calling his name. He looked up at the stands to see the entire Evans family standing, clapping, and cheering. Several of the other glee club members were cheering for him as well. It was then that it the idea of going home truly stung. He missed his family, but he would miss  _this_  family just as much.

It was a moment of triumph, however, so Rory put his thoughts aside and let himself be happy. He beamed as the lead judge placed the first place advanced medal for the season around his neck. The cold metal on his wet chest made him shiver a little, but the excitement quickly warmed him up.

As soon as the excitement died down a little, the announcer made one final declaration or congratulations, and then it was all over. Friends and family alike swarmed from the stands to greet their competitors. Sam dashed from the stands three steps at a time until he collided with Rory, lifting him up off his feet in a tight hug.

"I am so proud of you!" Sam exclaimed. He stood back and looked at the medal, turning it over in his fingers as if appraising the piece. Stacy and Stevie latched themselves on to Rory's legs, cheering for him as well. Mr. and Mrs. Evans weren't too far behind, lacking the extreme amount of energy their children had.

After Rory showered and changed into regular clothes, Coach Roz met the entire team out by the pool one last time. She gave them a short speech about achievement and her pride for them, then passed out certificates to them.

"I wanna see!" Stacy exclaimed, reaching up for the scroll of paper. Rory handed it down to her, smiling.

Stacy tried her best to read what was on the paper. "Rory Flan-gan. Kert-eye-fied Sweye-mer and Firs Place Whiner in the Aid-van-sed Die-veye-shown of Mac-Ken-Lye Hig-uh Skool."

"Very good try, Stace. You're a little off, but that's okay," Sam praised, patting the little girl on the head. "It says: Rory Flanagan, Certified Swimmer and First Place Winner in the Advanced Division of McKinley High School."

Both of the young children cooed in unison. It sounded so official to them. They were proud of their adopted older brother.

In celebration, the entire family went to BreadstiX for dinner. Their waitress remembered Sam, Rory, and the kids from their previous visit, relaying to the adults just how pleasant the children were.

-ooo-

"Don't bother getting dressed," Sam instructed Rory as they were getting ready for bed. It was only eleven, but the graduation ceremony started at one the next day. It was going to be busy, and emotional, so Sam needed a good night's sleep.

"Aww, Sammy, it's late. Ye' need ye'r rest," Rory protested playfully. They hadn't fooled around since returning from Nationals, and Sam had actually been rather apprehensive about initiating anything physical. He had no reason to, but somehow he felt hesitant, as if Rory wouldn't be able to find him attractive anymore after his outburst.

_I think Rory's right. I need to forgive myself. I'm being stupid. We've never had issues with sex. Nah, he won't turn me down, I'm just being paranoid._  Sam thought. He closed the distance between them and took him in a tight embrace, their nude bodies feeding each other warmth.

"If you don't want to, we don't have to," Sam said nervously, trying to push his insecurity out of his head.

"Ye' know I always want ye', Sammy. Ye'r the hottest guy I e'er saw," Rory said, his tone turning to one of desire.

"Is that so? What's so hot huh?" Sam asked, knowing he was fishing for compliments, just because when Rory said them, it turned him on all the more. It was egotistical, sure, but he always made sure he gave vivid descriptions to Rory of exactly what about him was so arousing as well.

Rory grinned mischievously. "Ye'r trouty lips. Bright green eyes. Those washing board abs of ye'rs. The way those little hairs trail down from ye'r navel to ye'r big... hard..." Before he could finish, he pressed his lips against Sam's, and wrapped his hand around the older boy's manhood.

They spent the better part of an hour making love, working each other over with their mouths and tongues until their jaws were sore. When they couldn't handle their oral ministrations any longer, Sam slid himself into Rory, and they made slow, passionate love, lasting longer than either of them expected. It was so sensual, so erotic. They were both so aroused by the time they reached the point of no return, their bodies turned to jelly.

That was the last time they would make love before Rory went home to Ireland.

-ooo-

Sam woke up to find his three favorite people standing by his bedside, all grinning. Stevie was down at the end, about to tickle Sam's feet, when the teen kicked his feet just enough to startle the boy.

"Nice try, champ," Sam teased. Rory leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

"Good morning, Sammy. It's ye'r last day as a high school senior. After one o'clock this afternoon, ye'r a graduate," Rory declared.

Stacy leaped up on the bed and wrapped her arms around her big brother. "I'm so proud, Sammy! You're all grown up now!" she squealed. He ruffled her hair and smiled at her. "Hey! Watch the hair!" the little girl protested.

"Oh my god, she sounds like Kurt!" Sam exclaimed, a look of terror on his face.

"She's young, there's still hope for her," Rory teased. He pulled the girl off the bed and told the two children to alert their mother that Sam was awake.

Sam sat up in the bed, wiping the gunk from his eyes and stretching his arms. " _That_  was a great way to go to bed," he said, recalling the activities from the previous night. "I'm really gonna miss you," he added, trying not to let himself feel down. It was a festive day of celebration – there wasn't time for frowning.

"It's not forever. But anyway, it's time for ye' to get up. Breakfast is almost ready, and ye' mammy made something special this morning," Rory stated, pulling on Sam's arm. "Come on, up and at them!"

Sam shook his head. "You gotta put a southern twang on it. Up an' at'em!" He threw his legs off the bed and stood up, stretching again. Rory poked his tummy, tickling him. He tossed Sam a tee shirt and they walked hand in hand to the kitchen.

Mrs. Evans had indeed prepared a special breakfast. It was more like a buffet really. She had pancakes, eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, hash browns, bacon, assorted fruit, orange juice, apple juice, and fruit juice.

"Oh my god, mom! That's enough to feed an army!" the older teen exclaimed, looking over the variety of food.

"Oh now honey, you're a growing boy, you can manage. I've seen you eat, you can put away some, what do you kids call them these days? Noms?" Mrs. Evans replied.

Sam giggled. "Yes, mom. Noms. As in om nom nom," he explained. Everyone else stared at him like he was nuts. "Just go with it," he laughed. He picked up a plate, about to pick out some 'noms' when Rory snatched it from him.

"Sit. I'll bring it to ye'," the Irish lad told him.

"Okay, but I want-" Sam started.

"Shh. I know what ye' want, and what ye'r gonna get. Here, drink some juice," Rory replied, handing Sam a big glass of orange juice. He knew by now that it was Sam's favorite breakfast drink; fruit juice was reserved for midday.

Sam watched in amazement as Rory fixed his plate, picking out almost perfect portions of each item, right down to the amount of syrup on his pancakes. Rory sat the plate down in front of him with a smug grin. "There ye' go. Eat up, ye' need your energy today." He kissed the top of Sam's head and made his own plate.

"Now  _that_  is amazing," Mr. Evans said. "I helped birth the kid and can't even tell you what he'd eat for breakfast. You've known him a few months and got it down to a science."

"That's Rory for you," Sam mumbled through mouthfuls of food.

"Don't talk with ye'r mouth full," Rory scolded. "Ye'll set a bad example for ye'r brother and sister."

"Yeah! Chew, swallow, then talk!" Stacy agreed, looking smug.

Sam swallowed his food and then laughed. "I thought  _I_  was the one getting out of school and instead I'm being schooled on table manners! It can only go uphill from here."

Sam shoveled more food in his mouth, taking big bites and large swigs of his juice. Rory just shook his head, always amused by Sam's gobbling of food. The boy was never shy to a fork, and his appetite proved it.

After breakfast, Rory helped clear the table and the dishes while Sam showered and got dressed. The graduates were required to wear dress clothes and ties under their gowns, so Sam reappeared in a pair of black dress pants and a white button up shirt with a navy blue tie.

"That looks great on ye', Sammy," Rory complimented. "Me turn now!"

Rory spent about a half hour getting ready, taking his time to make sure he looked perfect. It was a big day for Sam, and he wanted to look his best. He parted his hair just so, putting just the right amount of gel in it. His clothes had been ironed and of course, he finished it off with a blue bow tie.

"You look amazing!" Sam declared. "I swear, Blaine has you addicted to those bow ties. I think we need to stage an intervention for bow tie addicts."

"I thought ye' liked them," Rory remarked, frowning.

Sam kissed him on the forehead. "I love them, baby. I'm just teasing."

Sam had to arrive early to get ready with the rest of the senior class, get last minute instructions, and of course, socialize a little beforehand.

Seating was limited, so he knew the only ones in the audience to see him would be his parents, the kids, and Rory. That was just right, in his opinion, since they meant the most to him out of anyone else in the family.

Finally, the clock on the wall in the locker room struck one. It was time for the ceremony to begin, and the seniors to make their final appearance.

-ooo-

Everyone in the bleachers, and the chairs arranged down on the floor, turned around to watch the seniors file in as the school band played the usual 'Pomp and Circumstance'. They were dressed in red gowns with gold tassels, several students with special cloaks denoting special rank in academics or arts.

Rory watched intently, his camera in his hand, ready to go the instant he spotted Sam walk in. He snapped what must have been ten pictures before the senior class was fully present and Figgins led the entire audience in the Pledge of Allegiance.

The next part of graduation was the part everyone dreaded - family and student alike. It was the speeches from several teachers, as well as some special guest speaker that nobody except Figgins had ever heard of. By the time they got to the valedictorian, most of the room was in a half-asleep daze.

It was a little disappointing that the valedictorian was someone that Rory wasn't familiar with, and that Sam was ambivalent about. It made the speech have much less impact for either of them, despite how inspirational it was intended to be.

When the speech was over, the gym filled with the roar of clapping, whistles, and cheers. Nobody would ever know if that was because the speech had its intended effect on the crowd, or if everyone was glad the speeches were over and the diplomas were about to given out.

"Okay, honey, get ready, because there's so many seniors they don't get much time to walk up and get their diploma. Get as many pictures as you can," Mrs. Evans instructed Rory. Her words were wasted, however, since the boy had every intention of capturing each memory that he could as many times as his fingers would click.

Rory listened as he heard his friends' names being called, clicking off pictures for each one. Rachel Berry. Michael Chang. And then "Samuel Evans." Rory's fingers worked like pistons, clicking off picture after picture - Sam walking up the steps to the stage, Sam shaking hands with Figgins and several other teachers, Sam holding his diploma, Sam walking offstage to return to his seat.

"Don't use up all your film," Mrs. Evans said quietly, putting her hand on Rory's camera. "Not film, memory, oh you know what I mean!"

Quinna Fabray. Kurt Hummel. Mercedes Jones. Santana Lopez. Brittany Pierce. Noah Puckerman. The call of Puck's name actually caused the young Irishman to look confused, as he had never known Puck by any other name and assumed it was his first name. He never would have guessed such a badass would be named 'Noah'.

The names of his friends finally all called, Rory simmered down on the picture taking. The last ones he clicked were when Figgins announced the senior class of two thousand and twelve, and the entire group threw their caps into the air, cheering.

When the seniors left the gym, this time they were far less orderly and pretty much just exited in a large mob. The cafeteria was providing light refreshments while family and friends got an opportunity to see their graduates - some for the very last time.

Rory's appearance in the cafeteria was preceded only by Sam's two blonde cheerleaders, Stacy and Stevie. They ran at full speed up to their big brother, tugging on his arms, hugging him, and cheering at him. Sam plopped his cap down on Stacy's head.

"Hey! Watch the hair!" she squealed.

"Kurt! I have found your soul mate over here!" Sam shouted to his friend, waving. Kurt strolled over to join them, hugging both of the small children, then Sam, and finally Rory. Blaine wasn't too far behind, offering his own hugs and congratulations.

"Okay guys, picture time. Be back in a little bit," Sam told them, walking off with Kurt to join several of their friends for various photo opportunities. Rory trailed behind, wanting to make sure he didn't miss a single chance to snap a picture.

People were snapping pictures left and right, the flashes going off like strobe lights in a night club. The seniors felt like celebrities, taking so many pictures, and even signing yearbooks.

Mr. Evans took the camera and snapped some pictures as Sam dragged Rory with him for some pictures as well. Mike and Kurt were doing the same with Tina and Blaine. There were so many combinations of people in pictures that Facebook would be going into overdrive with picture tagging that evening.

Quinn was a little surprised when Rory approached her. "Can I take a picture with ye'?" he asked with a soft smile. She smiled back at him, happy to oblige. She had finally come to find peace in the fact that Sam was never returning to her and that he had found himself someone that truly made him happy. This time, when she smiled at the Irish lad, it was a genuine smile, followed by a tight hug.

"Take good care of him, Rory. He's real special to a lot of people," she whispered in his ear.

"I will. I promise," the teen said before departing to take the next picture with someone else.

"Wait a sec, Ror. Take one of us," Sam said, appearing out of nowhere and taking Quinn by the hand. "I'm gonna miss you, Quinn. It was a rocky year for us, but you're still a great friend." he said to her, looking her in the eyes. He hugged her, not even minding that she held on a little longer than most friendly hugs.

"Time for me to make some more amends," Sam said quietly to Rory, looking over at Mercedes. "Give me a minute, then come snap a pic."

Sam walked up to Mercedes, giving her a warm smile. "You look great," he told her. "I want us to part on good terms, okay?"

Mercedes smiled and hugged him. "We were never on bad terms, Sam. We just never wrapped up loose ends," she said quietly. "I'm happy for you, and I'm happy with Shane."

"I'm glad. Keep in touch when you go off to college, you hear?"

"I will, Sam. I promise," she replied. At that point, the Irish photographer showed up to snap more pictures. He had never grown close with Mercedes, but just looking at the two exes, Rory could see that the two of them still held mutual respect and admiration for each other. He had to wonder why Sam never tried to re-establish a close friendship with her, but he would never ask.

Next on Sam's mental list was Santana. She actually smiled when she saw him - most likely because it would be the last time. "I just wanted to say thanks, again," Sam told her. "For knocking sense into me back in San Francisco. I really screwed up."

"Yeah you did, jackass," she said playfully. "I was afraid my hand might get swallowed up by those massive lips of yours to be honest."

"I'm gonna miss you, believe it or not. Brittany, too," Sam admitted, throwing an arm around each of the girls.

"Don't get mushy, trouty mouth," Santana warned. After a picture was snapped, she hugged him, kissed him on the cheek. "Take care of the leprechaun. He's annoying, but he has a good voice. Glee club's gonna need it next year."

Rory said his goodbyes to Brittany. "Thank ye' for e'erything ye' and ye'r family did for me. I'll definitely miss ye'. Ye'r a right funny girl, Brittany," he told her with a smile.

Brittany smiled back. "I'm gonna miss you too, Rory Leprechaun. I know I said there wasn't such a thing as leprechauns, but I think you're the exception."

Rory cocked his head. "Why do ye' say that?"

"Because you're magical," she replied, hugging him, kissing him on the cheek, and then trotting off with Santana, all before he could respond to her.

_That girl sure is clueless, but she's the sweetest girl you ever wanna know. Santana better treat her right or she'll see just how magical I am._

After about an hour, the crowd was thinning out. Stacy and Stevie were becoming bored and hanging onto their parents' arms, wanting to go home. Sam was emotionally tired, desiring to go home and relax with his boyfriend, watching a movie and eating popcorn.

"I'm ready to get out of here," Sam told his family. "Let's go home. I need some rest. Too much for one day."

Rory wrapped his arm around Sam's and held onto his hand. "Let me guess, ye' wanna go home and watch  _Avatar_  and eat popcorn?"

"You know me too well," Sam replied with a grin.

They went home and did just that. Around seven, Mrs. Evans called them in for dinner, and then they played video games until hitting the hay around ten, exhausted from the day's events.

-ooo-

Sam woke up Sunday morning far earlier than he expected. At five in the morning, he was sitting up in bed, his eyes locked on his slumbering boyfriend. He was drowsy but couldn't fall back asleep. All he could think about was the fact that this time tomorrow, they would be putting Rory on a plane back to Ireland. The thought made him sick.

Around seven, Rory woke up, rolled over, and saw that Sam was staring at him. He smiled, scratched his belly like a kitten, then got up to go to the restroom. He returned moments later, slipping back under the covers. Sam was still watching him intently.

"What are ye' lookin' at, Sammy?" he asked with curiosity.

"You," Sam replied. "Fuck, I am going to miss you so much," he added, his voice choking up.

Rory's face softened, his eyes drooping a little. "Please, Sam. Don't cry. If ye' cry, then I'll cry, and then we'll both be cryin', and we both cried so much in the last few weeks, me eyes hurt."

Sam tapped him on the nose. "No promises. But I'll try." He smiled and then started to run his fingers through Rory's hair until the boy fell back asleep.

-ooo-

Mrs. Evans had cooked a breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, and hash browns, convinced that Rory needed one last southern style meal before he went home to potatoes of every size, shape, and recipe.

After breakfast and showers and getting ready, it was time to tackle the task both boys had been dreading. Packing.

Rory was only going to be gone about two and a half months, but he still had a ton of things he needed to take with him. He knew Sam was coming to visit, and he knew they were taking a vacation, but other than that, he would be bored out of his mind, so he packed up his game system and games.

Sam showed him an easy and efficient way to pack up his clothes. There were certain things, like his winter clothes, that Rory knew he wouldn't need, so he left those behind. He left his DVDs behind for Sam to watch.

Rory packed up everything that Sam had given him - cards and such - that were precious to him, and kept them separate. He wanted them nearby so he could bring them back with him to America, because he never wanted to leave them behind anywhere.

The boys skipped lunch - neither one had an appetite. They would have skipped dinner as well, but Mrs. Evans insisted they eat. Airport food was ridiculously expensive and greasy, and airplane food was just as disgusting, so she wanted to make sure Rory had some decent food in him before he left.

"I want to say goodbye to the ducks, and the fish," Rory said playfully after dinner. They left the house, hand in hand, walking to the park. It was around eight at night, so there wasn't anyone around, as usual. They made their way to the woods and walked in silence to the bridge.

Sam waited while the boy said goodbye to the fish (the ducks were asleep or hunting, or whatever ducks do when there aren't people around to give them bread). Sam could never forget how adorable his boyfriend was, speaking to the animals as if they were able to understand him.

Rory was leaning against the rail when he found strong hands on either side of him. He turned around to face Sam, who already had tears in his eyes. "I know I promised I would try, but I tried and I failed," he whispered, referring to his promise to try and avoid tears.

The young teen reached up and wiped Sam's eyes with his finger. "I don't want to say good bye," Sam said softly. "It's too hard."

Rory smiled at him - the smile that always melted Sam's heart and made him weak in the knees. The smile that made Sam fall in love with him. The smile that brought out his bright blue eyes. The smile that made the world feel so much better no matter how much it was going to shit. That magical, leprechaun smile.

"So how about we don't?" Rory replied.

"Huh?"

"How about we don't say goodbye?"

"What do you mean? We have to say goodbye, you're leaving in the morning," Sam protested.

Rory smiled again. "Yeah, I'm leaving, but I'm coming back. And ye'r coming to visit in a few weeks. So why do we need to say good bye?"

Sam sighed, trying to smile, but failing.

"Good bye is for when ye' know ye'll never see each other again. We're gonna see each other soon, so we should say something else," the teen explained. "We'll say 'See you later!' or "See you soon!' or something like that. But never good bye."

Sam leaned forward and hugged him. "Stuff like that makes me love you even more."

They stood there at the bridge, looking in each others' eyes, then kissing passionately before staring at each other again. It was as if they were studying each other, memorizing what the other looked like.

"It's getting late. Everyone wants to say go- I mean, they want to tell you 'see you later'," Sam corrected himself. Rory smiled yet again, finally coaxing one out of Sam as well. They walked back home, saying very little, holding hands and swinging their arms.

-ooo-

When they walked back into the house, Mr. and Mrs. Evans and the two children were hiding in the boys' bedroom. Sam flipped on the light and to Rory's delight, his host family was there. Stacy and Stevie were holding up a sign they had made themselves, declaring "We Love U Mr. Rory!" Mr. Evans handed him a small flat box with a card attached to it.

He opened the card and read the message inside.

_Have a safe trip to Ireland and enjoy your time with your family. We look forward to when you come back in August. You always have a home and a family here for you in America. We love you, and see you in a couple of months!_

All of them had signed it, including the kids with their messy signatures. Next, Rory opened the box to find a photograph in a picture frame of the six of them. It brought a tear to his eyes, which he wiped away swiftly.

"Thank ye'. Thank ye' all so much," he sniffled. I love all of ye', and I can't wait to come back. There aren't enough thanks in the world to show how much I appreciate e'erything ye' have all done for me."

Mrs. Evans was the first to uncork the dam of dears. She threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight until Rory started to poke her in the arm.

"Air, becoming an issue," he said playfully. She let go and giggled.

"Sorry about that, dear," she said. He smiled at her, tears in his own eyes. Mr. Evans stepped forward, Rory holding out his hand to shake. Mr. Evans tossed the boy's hand aside and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Evans men hug, you know," his host father informed him. "You come back safe, y'hear?"

"Yes, sir!" Rory said, giving a salute.

The kids were next, Stacy in tears, Stevie trying to remain stoic.

"Aww don't cry, I'll be back," Rory told the little girl, kneeling down to hug her.

Stacy sniffled. "Yeah but that's a looooong time away. I want you to come back now!" she squealed.

"It won't be too long, I promise. How about this? Practice swimming all summer. Get real good, so when I come back, ye' can beat me in e'ery race, got it?" Stacy thought a moment and decided that was a doable assignment.

"Okay, Mr. Rory. But no crying when I beat you good!" Rory smiled at her, and kissed her on the head.

"I sure hope you come back quick. Sammy's gonna be a big old grump while you're gone. He's already grumpy in the mornings, but now he'll be that way all day," Stevie announced. Sam shot him a foul look, more out of playfulness than offense.

Rory turned to Stevie, still crouched down. "If he starts being a grump, drag him outside and make him play soccer with ye'. Then, make e'ery goal and tease him about it. If that doesn't work, push him into the pool," he instructed, ruffling up the boy's hair.

Stevie looked back at Sam with an evil grin. He had official permission to wreak havoc on his older brother. What more of a parting gift could a little boy want?

The Evans family traded more hugs and farewells before it was time to go to sleep. On their way out of the door Rory said one last thing to them.

"Ye' all watch out for me Sammy while I'm gone. He needs washin' once a day, feedin' three times a day, and make sure to clean out his litter box," he told them. Both kids wrinkled up their noses at the mention of a litter box.

When the door was shut, he turned to Sam, who was quietly choking back his emotions. He walked up to the blonde and wrapped his arms around him, and just held on, saying nothing, the two of them letting the dam flow until they were too tired to go on.

-ooo-

Sam and Rory woke up at five the next morning. Both of them were quiet and somber. While Rory showered, Sam took his bags to the car, despite the fact his body wanted to refuse.

The entire ride to the airport, Rory told Sam about some of the things they could do when he visited. He continued to focus on his upcoming visit, hoping that Sam would look forward to it and realize how soon it was coming up, rather than focus on Rory not being there.

When they arrived at the airport, Sam insisted on helping carry the bags in and see that he checked in alright. The rest was going to be up to Rory to handle on his own. He was under strict instructions to text Sam as soon as he made it through customs and to his gate, and again at his layovers and arrival in Ireland. Sam had a copy of the flight schedules and would be keeping a close eye on his phone.

They shared one last kiss before Rory crossed the barrier that separated passenger from visitor. Sam stood and watched until he couldn't see Rory any longer, finally turning away to go to his car. He sat and waited until he received the text from Rory that he had made it to the gate. Only then would he return home.

Sam turned his music up loud for the ride home, attempting to sing along but to no avail. He was too choked up to sing. Upon arriving home, he noticed he had missed a text message - something he started to curse himself for. It was from Rory.

_Sammy, check ye'r computer and push play. Love Rory_

His curiosity piqued, Sam sat at his desk and wiggled the mouse, turning off the screensaver and bringing it back to life. The screen displayed iTunes, a track merely titled "Please" was selected. As instructed, Sam pushed 'play'.

Rory's voice began to fill his ears as music played in the background. Sam bit his bottom lip and he tried to remain quiet and listen to the words.

_Sun falls slowly on our lonely goodbye bedroom, you're my only_

_My last night home is first-night nervous_

_Take me over, remember all this 'til then..._

_Please save this for me_

_I'll come back for you, love. I promise to_

_Please save this for me, for until I return,_

_My love will burn and my heart will stay_

_It's gone cold now, we'll sleep somehow_

_I'll be gone by first light, last chance, hold tight until then..._

At that point, Sam couldn't hold back any longer. the tears flowed as Rory's voice reverberated in his ears. By the time Rory finished the chorus again, Sam had quieted down.

_I lie awake and memorize your face as you sleep next to me_

_The falling moon is calling me as I leave_

_Sunrise slowly, the road looms lonely, but I will not fail..._

_Please save this for me_

_I'll come back for you, love, I promise to_

_Please save this for me, for until I return_

_My love will burn and my heart will stay_

_My heart will stay_

As the song came to an end, the room was again silent, except for the muffled sounds of Sam Evans sobbing, his face buried in his arms as he lay his head on his desktop.

-ooo-

Rory sat in the plane leading out of Lima, waiting for it to take off. He stared out of the window, anxious to get moving so he could get home. He wanted to see his family, he wanted to get his punishment over with, and then be able to relax until Sam's visit, and then vacation. The sooner it was all done and over, the sooner he could get back to Lima and be with his boyfriend.

The flight attendant finally announced their departure. After the usual drivel about safety, the plane began to take off. Once it was high up in the sky, Rory looked out of the window, down at the land below, knowing that Sam was down there, somewhere, missing him. he wondered if Sam had listened to his song yet. He wouldn't know until he landed for his layover, when his phone finally reconnected, and there was a text waiting for him:

_That was beautiful, just like you are. I love you so much, 'soon' is not soon enough. Love, Sam_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **-ooo- END OF SEASON ONE -ooo-**


	26. Episode 26: Sammy Does Derry, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **
> 
> \---ooo--- BEGINNING OF SEASON TWO ---ooo---
> 
> **
> 
> _Author's Notes: Finally back after a short break between seasons! I am so excited to start back up again! I have already written up to Episode 7 of this season, and I can tell you now, it's full of drama, love, and sex. As before, I thank you all for your reviews and support! I intend to try and release a new chapter every 5-7 days. I hope you enjoy this season as much as you did last season!_ ****
> 
> **Beta Credit: SkewedReality (author of 'The Plan That Actually Worked')**

**Recap:**  Sam Evans moved back to Lima, but his reception was kind of luke-warm, until the new kid, Rory Flanagan, became his friend, then they started dating. They spent every waking moment together, including Christmas and New Year's, but their bliss was cut short when Azimio Adams attacked Rory and nearly killed him. His parents came to America were kind of mad that he let Azimio get away with a shorter sentence, then when he got better he joined the swim team as therapy. Later on, the Glee club all got slushied when the machine got banned, and it nearly crushed their spirits but then they went on to kick butt at regionals. A Warbler named Sebastian showed up and tried to make trouble when he drugged Rory, but Sam got blackmail on him and now he has to behave himself or risk going to jail. Sam and Rory got to play parents for a week when they had to watch the kids, but not long after they went to the lake for their own vacation before preparing for nationals. Everything was okay at nationals until Rory and Puck got stuck in an elevator and Sam got angry at Rory and yelled at him, and Rory ran away until Blaine and Kurt found him and talked sense into him and Sam, so they made up but got two weeks detentions when they got back for causing trouble but they went on to win fifth place at nationals, and then Sam graduated with his friends but it was summer and time for Rory to go back to Ireland and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 26: Sammy Does Derry Part 1**

Sam Evans let out a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the jetway onto solid ground for the first time in five hours. The total trip from Ohio had been ten hours, counting the layovers. When he left Ohio, it had been early morning, the sun barely awake, and now in Derry, Ireland, it was night time. The five hour time jump would wreak havoc with his sleeping schedule, but Sam was so exhausted from jet lag, it wouldn't be an issue tonight.

Derry Airport was a modest size, taking Sam only about ten minutes to make it out of the gate and to the court, where non-passengers could wait for their loved ones to arrive. Sam's droopy eyes widened as he scanned the area for some sign of his muchly missed boyfriend.

"Sammy!" He felt the crash of one body into his before he heard the call of his name. Shaking his head to get his bearings, he realized Rory had dashed up to him seemingly out of nowhere, and thrown his arms around him in a tight hug.

"Rory! I'm so happy to see you!" the weary traveler exclaimed. He set his bag down on the floor and gave the boy a proper hug and a quick kiss. "Where's your parents?" he asked, noticing he was alone. "You didn't drive by yourself did you?"

Rory giggled. "I can't drive. I 'aven't learned yet. Mam and pap are by the baggage claim with Seamus, waiting for us," he replied. "Come on, let's go. The sooner we get ye'r stuff the sooner we can go home."

Sam followed his excited boyfriend, so tired that he didn't even protest when Rory carried his bag for him. It was slightly disappointing that he couldn't hold his hand, but Rory had set some ground rules for themselves before he left from Ohio.

_We 'ave to be low key here. Pap is still struggling with it, so we 'ave to keep the affection a little less obvious,"_  Rory had told him. When Sam asked exactly what that meant, he was even more disheartened.  _Nothing more than a friendly hug in front of me mam and pap. No kissing, no hand holding, no tickling, no nothing. Pap is not quite sure what to make of it yet._

At least he had gotten a good hug and kiss in before they had to keep it PG. He wondered if Rory had planned that - telling his parents to wait at the claim so that he could assault him with affection upon first sight. Sam smiled at the notion.

Rory's parents were waiting at the benches near the baggage claim. Sam politely shook both their hands, and Seamus' as well. Seamus seemed slightly less wary of Sam this time around. Probably because Sam was now on  _his_  turf.

Sam excused himself to get his bags from the conveyor belt, Rory at his side to assist. Seamus stood idly by his mom and dad, watching his brother, whose mood had brightened considerably over the past two days.

"Are ye' hungry, Sam?" Mrs. Flanagan asked, once his bags were gathered and in the back of the vehicle. It was a BMW X3, a very expensive type of SUV. Rory had never actually mentioned his family's financial status, but judging by the brand of vehicle, they weren't lacking. It did strike him as odd though that to have such an expensive vehicle, Rory had seemed rather conscious of his spending habits. The sign of a responsible adult in the making.

"Ah yes, ma'am. My stomach is still a few hours behind and the airline food is a little less than tasty," Sam replied, his stomach growling a little.

"I can make ye' a ham sandwich if ye' like. I won't expose ye' to the Irish delicacies until tomorrow," the woman joked. Sam wasn't entirely sure what to expect for food in Ireland. He assumed it wasn't that different than at home, sans peanut butter, but the way Mrs. Flanagan said 'Irish delicacies' it made him suddenly concerned if he was going to be eating weird stuff like snails or frog legs.

Sam just smiled. "Thanks, that'd be great." He was dying to move his hand closer to Rory's, just to touch him, but he knew that wasn't a good idea and wasn't anxious to be smacked by his boyfriend, either.

On the way back to the Flanagan house, Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan inquired about how his trip was, how his family was doing, and commented on how happy they were he was visiting. The usual banter between parents and their children's friends.

Mr. Flanagan pulled the car into the driveway of a two-story home that wasn't drastically different from anything in America. The style was European of course, but it wasn't like they were living in log cabins, shacks, or mansions, either. He halfway expected them to be on a farm of some sort, but that was a little far fetched he supposed.

Rory hopped out and started to pull Sam's luggage from the trunk, ignoring Sam's protests. "Ye'r me guest, let me spoil ye' just a little for once," the younger teen insisted. Sam followed him inside and up the stairs to the room he would be staying in.

"This is Seamus' room," Rory announced, nodding toward the numerous posters on the walls. Most of them were of sports stars or various video games, and one of Bumblebee from the Transformers movies. "His big goal in life is to own a yellow Camaro," Rory noted with a grin.

"I think that's a pretty good goal if you ask me," Sam said, looking at the small boy. "I wouldn't mind having one of those either, but maybe in green so it matches my eyes."

"Cool!" Seamus exclaimed. "Rory should get a blue one and then we can be a team." He then tugged on Sam's arm excitedly, the bell around his neck jingling as he jumped about. "Come on, I wanna show ye' me model I'm building!"

Sam smiled and allowed himself to be tugged to another room in the house. Apparently his agreement with Seamus earned him major brownie points with the kid because he had already spoken to him more in the past few minutes than he had the entire time when he was in America. Sam still couldn't get the concept of Seamus' bell through his head, but perhaps over the next few days it would make better sense, or so he hoped.

Seamus led Sam to a room downstairs and out to the garage. "Pap says I 'ave to keep it down here because of the glue smelling the walls up," the boy explained. There was a small table off to the side of the garage with a box on it - the box of a toy model of a yellow Camaro. "It's only half done, but I 'ave to take me time because it's so hard to put together! There are so many pieces."

There was a plastic model set atop a piece of wood, only the bottom half of the model finished. Small jars of yellow, black, and silver paint as well as tubes of model glue sat on the far side of the table. A booklet with instructions was folded up and sticking out of the box lid. Sam inspected the current progress and gave Seamus a big grin.

"Looks great so far. I bet it'll be awesome when you're done with it. You have to take a picture and show it to me," Sam said, looking up at Rory, who was partially rolling his eyes.

"Come on, Seam, let Sam get settled and eat a sandwich. He's hungry. You can bother him later," Rory insisted. Looking disappointed, Seamus let him go, turning off the light as they left. The little boy felt proud that someone as old as Sam found his model so neat, especially since his own brother seemed rather disinterested.

"He's a lot more energetic than before. I think he might actually like me," Sam joked on the way to the kitchen. "He hardly spoke to me at all before."

Rory smiled. "Maybe he finally saw how awesome ye' are."

"That didn't take long. Not even in the house five minutes and Seamus already showing off his toy," Mrs. Flanagan teased. "Here ye' go, a ham sandwich for ye'." She held out a plate with a sandwich on it, the crusts cut off. "I didn't know if ye' American boys like ye'r bread crust or not, so I took it off to be safe," she added.

Sam took the plate and smiled at her. "Thank you, this is great. We don't usually get picky about crusts, so do whatever you normally do." He bit into the sandwich and it may as well have been gold. Anything but greasy airport food was a godsend.

"Oh, here's some juice. Rory said ye' like juice a lot," she said, handing him a glass of grape juice. At first Sam found it odd there was no ice, but then he remembered that ice wasn't all that big of a deal in European countries. He was fortunate, however, as Mrs. Flanagan had the courtesy to fill the glad with ice anyway.

After Sam finished eating, Rory went with him back to Seamus' room to unpack. They heard a knock on the door as it was slowly opened. "May I 'ave a word with ye' boys just a moment?" Mr. Flanagan asked rhetorically. Sam was already familiar with the fact that Mr. Flanagan didn't  _ask_ , but rather  _told_. He also had a habit of not knocking on doors before coming in, hence the knocking as he was opening. Apparently, it further went with his ideal that in his house, nothing should be going on that he can't know about anyway. Sam couldn't help but wonder how many times Rory had been caught 'performing solo' by his father just barging in uninvited.

"Oh, uh sure, Mr. Flanagan," Sam said, turning around. The man motioned for them to have a seat, so they sat on the edge of Seamus' Transformer comforter covered bed. He noted that there was a large crate of Transformer toys in the open closet, most of them from the more recent live action movies.

"I'm glad ye'r here, Sam. I just 'ave a couple of things I ask of ye' boys," his host announced. "I know it was common for ye' to be stayin' in one room at home, Sam, but I prefer ye' sleep separate under me roof."

Sam nodded his head. "Of course, I understand. Our arrangement back home was a little unique anyway. No problem at all, sir." He wondered if he was sounding patronizing or not.

"Good, good. I also ask that ye' respect the curfew. Normally we 'ave Rory in by ten, but on account of ye'r visit and ye' boys wanting to explore, we'll let it go to eleven for now, although Seamus still must be in by seven," the man went on. Sam nodded again. "I also ask that ye' not be 'avin any 'monkey business' under me roof. Rory tells me that 'monkey business' means deviancy there in America."

Sam assumed he was referring to sex or any form of fooling around. That was no big deal, however, since Rory had already told him they were pretty much going to have to sneak even kisses and hand holding.

"Right, sir, no monkeys. I understand. My father didn't allow that either," Sam said, even though his father full well knew they had been putting more monkeys to work than he wanted to know about.

"Glad we are on the same page. Mrs. Flanagan and I work during the week, so if ye' want to go anywhere, ye'll need to take the bus or walk. Keep that in mind for ye'r plans. Lastly, Rory has been given instructions to make sure ye' 'ave the best time possible while ye'r here, Sam," Mr. Flanagan finished with a friendly smile.

"Boys, 'ave a good night. I'll be turning in early. Keep the noise down, if ye' don't mind," Mr. Flanagan said, giving them both a nod.

"G'night pap," Rory said, giving him a quick hug. Sam bade him good night as well, sending him off with a smile and friendly nod. As soon as his pap was gone, Sam whispered to Rory.

"He sure seems rigid," Sam said. "He's nice, but so serious. Business-like almost." He went to kiss Rory on the cheek, but he pulled away.

Rory looked at him with sad eyes. "The door is open. When he said no monkey business, he  _meant_  no monkey business." His words were colored with disappointment and anxiety.

"I'm sorry. I just got excited. I haven't seen you for almost a month. I'm having withdrawals. I  _need_  you Rory," Sam joked quietly. Rory cracked a smile, nudged the door closed with his foot, and kissed Sam on the mouth.

"When we go out tomorrow we can find a spot somewhere and 'ave a little kissing time," Rory told him. "Until then,  _behave_." Sam saluted him and then cracked a grin. "So what are we gonna do now?"

Rory shrugged. "We can play a video game if ye' want. Seamus will probably want to play though. We gotta keep the noise down, we don't wanna wake mam and pap." Sam noted that anytime He referred to his father and doing even the slightest thing to bend a rule or upset anything, Rory would get this nervous look in his eyes. He decided it best not to say anything for the time being, but he had an inkling of why he got that look.

The three boys sat in Rory's room, playing on his Wii. They played Fruit Ninja until they tired of that and went on to Mario Kart. The sports games were only made for two players, so they would have to hold off on those until Seamus wasn't around. The only thing was, when Seamus was ready for bed, that pretty much meant Rory had to go to bed, since Seamus was sleeping in his room.

"Does Seamus wear that bell to bed?" Sam asked quietly while the youth was brushing his teeth.

Rory nodded. "One time, I hid it from him. I put it in me sock drawer. It took him all afternoon to find it. It was funny, but I got in big trouble for it. I couldn't sit for two days."

Sam grimaced at the idea. "Your dad sure likes that kind of discipline, don't he? Scary." Rory shrugged it off, she he decided not to mention anything else about it. He had to wonder though, how many leather belts had Mr Flanagan gone through over the years?

Rory went to tuck Sam into bed - a complete role reversal from when he lived with Sam in Ohio. Usually it was Sam doing the spoiling, but here, on his native turf, it was Rory taking the lead. Rory knelt down next to him, kissing him, making sure not to make noise while doing so. He had recommended Sam wear a shirt to bed, just because he wasn't sure how his pap would feel about Sam walking about sans shirt.

"I'm really glad ye'r here, Sammy. Ye' don't know how much I missed ye'."

Sam held onto his hand a moment longer. "I missed you so much, too. I can't wait until you come back. Things will be so amazing again. Right now it's like everything is just suspended in time. I love you so, so much."

Rory kissed their intertwined hands. "I love ye' so much too, Sammy. Now get to sleep. We 'ave a busy day tomorrow." Rory stood up, letting go of Sam's hand. He shut off the light and closed the door, returning to his own bedroom.

Sam lay in bed, trying to fall asleep. He was exhausted, but the time change was still throwing him off. He knew he needed to sleep though, since Rory had already mentioned they would be doing something tomorrow.

He very badly wanted to be in Rory's bed with him. He wanted to wrap his arms around him, like he was supposed to, feeling their bare bodies, hot against each other. He wanted to smell the scent of Rory's hair under his nose while he slept, hear the faint sounds of him breathing. He wanted to be there when Rory woke up to smile at him and wish him good morning. He wanted to kiss him first thing and then the very last thing before bed, kiss again. He would have to settle, however, for whatever he could get while under the Flanagan roof. He surely didn't want to break any rules, not because he was afraid of what Mr. Flanagan would do to him, but because he was afraid of what he might do to Rory.

The strange thing about Mr. Flanagan was that to be such a strict disciplinarian, he was a very kind man. He spoke authoritatively, but he was friendly. He didn't talk down to anyone, and he seemed to take genuine interest whenever someone else spoke. In fact, 'genuine' was a very good word to describe the man all around. He was strict, but the words he spoke weren't faked or forced. That was why it was so difficult for Sam to wrap his head around the idea of his methods of discipline under his roof. Mr. Flanagan seemed more relaxed now, too, in his own home. Sam recalled how uptight he seemed when they were in America.

Sam continued to mull over it as he attempted to force himself to sleep. He couldn't get it out of his head, this paradox that was Mr. Flanagan. The only other things he knew of the man was what Rory told him, which were mostly good. He was a loving father, worked hard, but because of that he didn't get much time with the family, except for family vacations. He had gone to a few of Rory's football games as a kid, and went to Seamus' now, but most of the time with a laptop attached to him. He encouraged Rory's singing and encouraged both boys to work hard and have aspirations. He was a good man, but for some reason this…  _thing_  stood out to Sam so strongly that it just didn't fit with his perceptions. How could a man like Mr. Flanagan lift his hand to his own sons like that?

He finally dozed off before he could think about it anymore and while he wanted to figure out this man some more, he knew he would have to do so without Rory, who seemed to never care to discuss the particular subject. When he had returned home, all he told Sam of the punishment was that his father had waited until the next day, around afternoon, and had come into his room to talk to him. Rory wouldn't go past that – just that his father came to talk to him and that was when it happened. Whether his refusal to talk was because he didn't want to upset Sam or he was too embarrassed about it, Sam would never know.

Rory lay in his own bedroom, Seamus asleep next to him, snoring quietly. Rory hated sharing a bed with him – he snored and tossed and turned too much. Of course, Seamus wasn't Sam, and anyone who wasn't Sam just was not going to be welcome in his bed anyhow. Even sharing the hotel room bed with Blaine wasn't the same, even though he was a close friend and felt comfortable with Blaine around. He just wasn't Sam.

For the past month, Rory had dealt with sleeping alone again. It had been so long since he had that it felt unnatural. It felt empty, like something vital was missing. He had to resort to using extra pillows to wrap his arms around just to get to sleep, and the first few nights he had to take sleeping pills just to get that far.

His first few days back hadn't been the best, anyhow. Aside from his second day including his punishment for the detentions, he had to go through the headache of unpacking, and rehashing his school year with not only his parents and Seamus, but the rest of his family, too, who seemed to want to all come over at once. Of course, they all wanted details about the random act of violence committed against him (as his parents told them; opting to keep out that he was targeted for his sexuality). It was exhausting, and as much as he loved his family, without Sam there, it just felt  _wrong._  He felt even worse when his father suggested they not introduce Sam to the rest of the family during his visit, nor should he even tell them he was in a homosexual relationship. The rest of the family was not quite as willing to accept such 'deviant behavior'.

Oh, yes, that was another thing. While he had talked with his father several times since dating Sam and coming out to them, there was still a small bit of tension left in the air. His father still could not grasp the concept of how one man could love another and seemed even more perplexed as to how a man who had a history with women could suddenly 'turn gay'. He had even gone so far as to ask Rory how he knew he was gay, since he had never been with a woman, and even hinted that perhaps he should try coupling with a woman someday when he was older, before making a final determination.

Rory was adamant, however, that he was in love with Sam, and not necessarily because he was a man, but because of who he is. Rory had ticked off a list on his fingers of various things about Sam that he adored, and Mr. Flanagan had to admit that by the end of that particular conversation, Sam seemed like a genuinely great guy and that their love was far beyond the physical realm of 'monkey business'.

The last thing Rory remembered thinking about before he finally fell asleep was how he couldn't wait to take Sam around the town and show him what Derry was like. He had spent countless hours trying to pick out just the right places to take him and had every intention of making his visit to Ireland memorable.

-ooo-

Sam woke up the next morning to his shoulder being poked. At first he thought it was Rory, but it was Seamus, trying to wake him without making too much noise, failing miserably due to the jingling of his bell lanyard. When his eyes finally fluttered open, he saw the boy standing there, poking at him. "Mornin' Seamus. Where's Rory?"

"Helping mam with breakfast. It'll be ready soon. He wanted me to get ye' up and ready." Seamus replied. Sam noticed the boy was already in his shorts and tee shirt, ready for whatever activity he had planned for the day. "Come on, then. Up with ye'. Only fifteen minutes until food goes on the table. Don't be late, or ye' won't get a plate," he cautioned.

Somehow Sam had a feeling Seamus wasn't joking, either. Always valuing the first meal of the day, Sam got out of bed, picked out a set of clothes, and took his sundry bag with him to the bathroom.

Being a guy had its advantages – it took little time to shower and get ready, so he was finished with a few minutes to spare. He had made a conscious effort to remember to bring with him Rory's favorite cologne, which he had stopped wearing in his absence since Rory wasn't around anyway and he had nobody else to impress.

Rory greeted Sam with a smile and ushered him to have a seat at the table. When he set Sam's plate down in front of him, he whispered into his ear, "Don't eat yet. Prayer first." Sam's family was Christian, but they didn't go so far as to pray before every meal, but he knew Rory's family was devoutly Catholic, so the custom didn't surprise him. What  _did_  catch him off guard was when Mr. Flanagan offered Sam the chance to actually lead the prayer.

"Pap, Sam is Christian, but not Catholic. He may not know what to say," Rory timidly explained for his father.

"That's alright. Go ahead Sam, as long as ye' give thanks to the Lord for ye'r meal, ye' can say it how ye' usually do." Mr. Flanagan offered. That wasn't much better, since no particular prayer popped into mind. Usually his family's idea of mealtime prayer was just a 'thanks mom' and little to no fanfare. He would just have to wing it.

"Dear Lord, I just want to thank you for this wonderful meal, and the great company with which we share it. May we all enjoy the day you have given us, and thank you for everything we have in our lives. Amen," Sam said, feeling incredibly stupid, his face reddening with embarrassment.

"That was lovely, dear," Mrs. Flanagan said, despite the fact it was the strangest prayer she had ever heard. She wasn't familiar with non-Catholic customs, so it may not have been as strange as she thought.

Mr. Flanagan gave him a friendly nod. "That was just fine m'boy. Giving thanks to the Lord is the point. Rory can share with ye' what our traditional prayer is later. Now, let's eat, family." It was apparent when Mr. Flanagan said 'family', he was including Sam, as he nodded to all four of his fellow table mates.

Sam looked down at his plate. There was what looked like pancakes, sausage, ham, and some sort of black  _something._  Rory giggled at his bewildered look.

"Those are potato cakes, and  _that_  is black pudding. Whatever ye' do, don't ask or ye'll never eat it. Just try it," Rory explained for him. Potato cakes Sam could handle, but black pudding? Nothing black was ever meant to be eaten – even mushrooms were brownish gray. Olives, maybe, but this stuff did  _not_  look like olives.

Sam just smiled politely and figured he may as well jump in headfirst into this strange Irish dish. Rory watched him intently as he put some of the black substance on his fork and slowly brought it to his mouth. Saying a silent prayer, Sam shoved the fork in his mouth.

It was atrocious. Not enough prayer in the world could save him. There was no way to describe the tastes that assaulted his taste buds. He managed to swallow it down, and then chugged half of his juice. Rory couldn't help but stifle a chuckle as he saw Sam's reaction to black pudding – also known as blood sausage.

"Don't eat it if ye' don't like it. Ye' tried it, that's what matters," Mrs. Flanagan laughed. "I'm sure ye'll enjoy the potato cakes and ham. And that's regular pork sausage," she pointed out. "Don't worry, I won't give ye' a meal that doesn't have  _something_  ye'll like."

"Our food isn't  _that_  much different. There's a few unique Irish dishes that mam wanted ye' to try while ye'r here," Rory said. "Seamus, hush," he poked his little brother in the side as he was giggling at Sam's distaste for the bloody sausage.

Fortunately, the rest of breakfast was not only edible, but delicious. Rory took the remainder of Sam's black pudding, not wanting to waste food. All Sam could think about was that Rory better eat a mint or brush his teeth before he planned on kissing him, because that taste was just abysmal.

Sam helped clear the table, but Mrs. Flanagan shooed him away while she loaded the dishwasher. He then sought out his boyfriend to find out what exactly he had planned.

"First I want to take ye' to the Peace Bridge. It's real close, a short walk from here. We can pick up a bus from there and head into Derry central, where the mall and shops are. There's also museums and other things to see there," Rory explained.

"Sounds good. Let me grab my wallet and we'll head out," Sam said. A few minutes later, the two boys were walking down the sidewalk, toward the city. As soon as they were out of sight of his home, Rory reached for Sam's hand, intertwining their fingers.

"I've been wanting to do that since we left the airport," Rory stated with a grin. "Ye' don't realize how much ye' miss the little things until ye' can't do them for a while."

"That's an understatement. I've been dying to get my hands on you," Sam replied with a mischievous grin. "Uh I don't mean just for  _that_ ," he clarified, noticing Rory's playful eyeroll. "I've just been wanting to hold your hand. Hug you. Kiss you. Everything we can't do at your house."

Rory smiled and leaned his head against Sam's arm as they walked. "I'm sorry we can't do this at home. Maybe eventually, once pap gets used to the idea. But not yet."

"It's okay," Sam consoled. "Not everyone can be as accepting as my family. I mean, your family comes from a strict Catholic background. I'm honestly surprised they have accepted you this much." He furrowed his brow, realizing that didn't come out the way he meant it.

Rory chuckled. "Ye'r right. I was surprised, too. I asked pap about it, he said he has his reasons, that I'm his boy and that will never change. I 'aven't asked him anymore though. He seemed a little edgy when I asked him."

"Maybe he'll tell you someday. But hey, at least there's that much. He seems to like me okay, doesn't he?" Sam asked, trying to sound confident, but in reality he was nervous that perhaps Mr. Flanagan was wary of him.

Rory nodded his head, standing straight again. "Yeah, I think he does. Mam adores you, I can tell. She made such a big deal out of wanting to make some traditional Irish food for ye'. She just wants ye' to try it. Don't feel bad if ye' don't like it. Ye'r not used to some of it."

"Your mom is really nice. That's awesome of her. I'm sure there will be something Irish I like. Just please, no more of that… black… monstrosity."

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence until they reached what looked like a giant white arch of some sort. Rory unclasped Sam's hand. "Not here, too public," he cautioned. Sam sighed but assumed it was best to go with the flow.

The Peace Bridge was amazing. It was huge, white, and made up of wide arches. The river it crossed was a beautiful blue, though not quite as alluring as the color of the young Irishman's eyes. Birds flew overhead, making little cameos in the pictures Sam was taking.

Rory led him across the bridge into the main part of town where the stores and restaurants were. They walked around a while, window shopping mostly. Sam made a mental note to be sure and bring something back for his family but didn't want to buy the first thing he saw, either. Time was flying by surprisingly fast as they passed store after store. There were several chain stores, but most of them were local places, selling handmade items as well as other items Sam had little interest in.

"Come on, I want to take ye' to this one store, it's musical," the boy said. Sam followed him, crossing the street, and then walking inside a store that had a façade modeled after a stone castle wall.

Inside the shop, there were instruments all over the walls and mounted on counter tops. Most of them were normal instruments used in a school band, but there were also guitars. Further back in the store were numerous instruments that Sam had only seen in movies. These were made from wood, meant to look like they were carved right out of the trees.

"These here are carved right from a tree trunk," Rory said, pointing. Sam chuckled to himself as he realized his assumption was correct. There were also flutes, something that resembled a banjo, and a large set of bagpipes.

"No way! Real bagpipes!" Sam exclaimed. The store clerk smiled and showed Sam how to hold them. They were far heavier than he expected. He couldn't play them, but it still made for an amusing photo opportunity.

"Are ye' hungry yet?" the younger teen inquired. They had been walking the better part of the day so far and Rory was getting a bit peckish.

"I could eat. You pick where we're going, just make sure they got something I can eat, too," Sam said, laughing. "And no black pudding!"

Rory smiled. "Okay, but only if ye' promise to try something different for an appetizer or something. I want ye' to try as much stuff as ye' can while ye'r here. Get the full experience."

Sam gave him a half smile. "Okay, deal. This is gonna be  _my_ treat though." Rory opened his mouth to argue, but Sam placed his finger over the boy's lips. "No arguments. My treat. Now, where we going?"

The two boys made their way to a quaint little Irish diner, the décor reminiscent to that of a pub. Rory chose a simple appetizer of stuffed baby red potatoes, which Sam actually enjoyed. Anything was better than  _black pudding._

It was a late lunch, but they still had plenty of time to explore. Rory led Sam to one of the local cathedrals, a gigantic affair that had paintings on the ceilings, a high bell tower, and an organ that took up the entire back wall. It was amazing.

"Is this… do people still use this place?" he asked, looking skyward to examine the painting.

"Of course they do. It's always filled to the doorways. Ye'll see tomorrow," Rory answered.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes. We're going to mass with me family. Ye' didn't think ye' was gonna get out of that did ye'?" Rory chuckled. Sam just kind of half smiled but had no enthusiasm whatsoever. He had sat through one Catholic mass and that was more than too much for him. He'd stick with his own Christian methods.

"Don't look so glum about it. Trust me, it's best to just go. Don't want to make a big deal about it, right? Besides, after the mass, we always go out for a big fancy late lunch somewhere," Rory added with a grin. Sam still looked skeptical, so it was time for him to break out the big guns – his pleading look.

"Oh that's entirely unfair!" Sam protested. "You know I can't resist that look! I'll go! I don't have to pretend to be Catholic though, do I?"

Rory smiled and snuck a kiss on the cheek. "Ye' remember how it was when ye' went with me before? Just kneel when e'eryone else does, sing the hymns. Just don't go up for communion."

"What about confession? I don't have to go in that closet and tell the priest I'm a sinner, right?" Sam asked, glaring toward the row of confessionals on the right side of the room.

"No. Not unless ye' want to. Confession isn't something ye' 'ave to do all the time, just when ye' feel like ye' should. I probably won't go. Unless pap tells me I 'ave to."

Sam looked a little uncomfortable at the last statement. "You dad sure does have a lot of rules."

Rory shrugged. "It's not so bad. He's just strict with us. He doesn't fool around."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed. I mean, he's nice, but he seems so serious. Does he ever joke around? Hang out with you guys? Relax?" Sam asked, the pair of them walking out of the cathedral and letting the sunlight bathe them in its glow.

"We don't 'ave the same kind of relations ye' do with ye'r father, Sam. It's just different. I love me pap. He's good to us. He gives us e'erything, all he asks for is to follow the rules, give him respect," Rory explained, looking around as if trying to figure out where to go next.

"It doesn't make you… I dunno, a little sad? That he doesn't spend time with you? Do stuff with you?" Sam asked, fearing that perhaps he was standing on thin ice.

Rory shook his head. "No. Well, maybe. Sometimes I wish he would just 'hang out' with me and Seamus. When we do stuff, it's always as a family. We go places, but it's always all four of us."

Sam noticed the forlorn look cross Rory's face. "Hey, I don't mean to judge. I'm just not used to it. It's kind of interesting to see how different your life is here. It's like I get to see inside your head a little more." Rory cracked a smile. "Come on, then. Let's see it. Show that grin."

Rory finally gave in and gave him a genuine smile. "Sammy, I love me family. There's no doubt about that at all. We just have a different type of relationship than ye' do with ye'r family."

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Sam said, giving him a hug. "Hey, is there some place we can go around here to be alone? Some place a little less public, where I kind hold you for a while?" he asked, changing the subject.

Rory thought hard for a moment, scrunching up his face. "Hmm, yeah! There's a little park area we can go to. It's got a little hill in front of the river."

"Then lead the way. I'm craving to just wrap my arms around you and squeeze," Sam said, his smile soft and loving as opposed to hot and horny.

Within another few minutes, they entered the park. Rory was right – there wasn't anyone around. The hill provided a bit of privacy as well, since nobody could really see what they were doing from the other side of the river.

Sam sat down on the grass and then pulled Rory into his arms. They laid back, the sun blocked by some trees overhead. The shade was welcome – the sun was hot and the breeze was minimal.

"I have been wanting to just hold you since I got here," Sam said. They lay face to face, staring into each other's eyes. Sam's hand found it's way to Rory's and they laced their fingers together. "You are so beautiful, Rory. More than you know."

Rory blushed. "Sammy, stop. Ye' know ye' always make me go red when ye' say those things."

"I like when you blush. It's cute, seeing your cheeks turn pink like that." He let go of his hand and stroked Rory's cheek with the back of his fingers. "I wish you could see what I see."

"See what ye' see?" the teen asked, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah. I wish you could just look at yourself, and see the awesomeness I see when I look at you. Stuff you can't see just by looking in the mirror. I know, it doesn't make a lot of sense, but-"

Sam was silenced as Rory closed the distance between their mouths, the younger teen placing his lips against Sam's. The older boy forgot what he was saying as he was suddenly lost in the sensation of his boyfriend's lips pressed against his own.

"I love ye', Sam," he felt the boy say. It felt funny, feeling his lips speaking when they were pressed on his. It tickled. He chuckled a little bit.

"That tickles," Sam said. "But I love you, too. So much."

The two laid there on the grassy knoll, just cuddling, kissing, and holding each other until they fell asleep. They didn't wake up until five in the afternoon, just enough time to make the trek back to the Flanagan house and wash up for dinner.

On the way back to Rory's, the happy couple passed by a pub. There were three men standing outside of it, smoking cigars and laughing. As Sam and Rory passed by, one of them called out to them.

"Hey queers!" the man called to them. Sam stopped dead in his tracks, Rory standing nervously at his side.

"Sam, let's  _go_ ," the young teen urged. "This isn't a good place," he added.

"What did you say to us?" Sam demanded, puffing his chest out to look as imposing as possible.

The man who had yelled at them looked to his friends and laughed. "Ye' hear me ye' queer. Ye' and ye'r jolly little boyo there need to just be runnin' along now! Can't 'ave ye' infectin' us with ye'r disease!"

Rory started to tug on Sam's arm, begging him to let it be. "Come on, Sam, this isn't the place for this."

Sam ignored his pleas. "What's your problem, dude? We weren't bothering you! We were minding our own business, so where the fuck do you get off talking to us like that?" he demanded. He was only about three feet away from the man, dangerously close for one of them to assault the other.

"Sam, ye'll get arrested, please, let's just  _go_!" Rory insisted. "I'll explain later, just come on, this isn't worth ye'r time!" He yanked hard on Sam's arm, demanding his attention. "Sam!"

"Yeah, Sam, listen to ye'r little fey. Get a run on, then!" the man teased. Before Sam could react, Rory yanked on him once more, this time walking away with his arm, forcing Sam to follow.

Sam turned around, not understanding why Rory was so desperate to get away. Sam could take them, they both knew it. Couldn't he?

"Count your blessings," Sam growled at them. When they were a safe distance away, they slowed down.

"What was that all about? I could have handled it," Sam questioned, agitated more at the guys than at Rory.

"That pub, it's not a good place. Bad people hang out there," Rory answered. He seemed greatly unnerved by the entire thing. Sam put his arm around him and squeezed.

Rory held his hand for a moment, wanting to forget the unpleasant experience. "It has a history. A bad one. Let's hurry on home, mam and pap will be expecting us soon."

Sam could pick up the hint that Rory had no desire to continue the conversation, but it didn't mean he was about to forget about it, either. The way Rory reacted, he knew something more about that place than he was letting on.

-ooo-

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Mrs. Flanagan had made a nice mixture of classic Irish food, all of which Sam found to be delicious. He grew incredibly nervous, however, when she offered him a large scoop of 'white pudding'. Bracing himself for the worst, it turned out to be vanilla pudding. Mrs. Flanagan giggled to herself at her small joke.

They recounted their trek across town, promising to show them the pictures they took. They conveniently left out the part about cuddling near the river and thugs that harassed them.

After dinner, the three boys played several more games of Mario Kart, then Rory ushered Seamus away to go work on his model so they could play something a little more violent. They hooked up the gun controllers and enjoyed some rounds on House of the Dead, killing zombies for the better part of an hour.

When Seamus tired of working on his model, he dragged Sam to come see it. He had painted some of the pieces he needed for the engine and was proudly pointing out the details. Rory seemed slightly disinterested, giving it only a cursory glance.

"Keep up the good work, Seam. It's looking real good," Sam praised. The boy beamed at him, pleased that somebody appreciated his hard work.

"It's almost time for bed, boys," they heard Mr. Flanagan announce from the next room. "Mass in the morning, set ye'r best out, make sure it's ironed and lookin' neat. Can't 'ave the Lord thinking ye' don't care about entering his house."

Sam gave Rory a look and mouthed to him. "Seriously?" Rory giggled and nodded his head. "Okay, kiddo, let's make sure we got our stuff ready for the morning. Don't wanna keep the Lord waiting," Sam said, trying to hide his sarcasm for Seamus' sake.

Rory playfully smacked him in the arm with the back of his hand. "Don't encourage him, he already hates going."

They turned off the light as they left the garage and went to their rooms. Sam had brought a nice outfit in case they decided to go out for a nice dinner, not even thinking about having to go to church. Rory gave his outfit a close inspection, making sure it looked acceptable to his father.

"Hey, how come you don't show any interest in Seamus' model? He seems real proud of it. You could pretend to think it's cool," Sam teased.

Rory shrugged. "It's no big deal to me I guess. I don't like cars."

"Aww, well just pretend. He's working real hard on it. I bet it would make him feel real good for his big brother to say so," Sam encouraged. "I can tell he looks up to you."

"Yeah, maybe. I guess I could say something nice about it, huh? Even if he did poke fun at me singin'." Rory smirked. "Little bugger, said I sounded like someone hit me in the balls."

Sam burst out laughing. "Let me guess, your falsetto?"

Rory glared at him. "Yes, me falsetto. I was practicing one day and he came in me room and laughed."

Sam smiled. "He's just being a kid." As he was straightening out his pants, a thought dawned on him. "Wait a minute, how can you say you don't like cars? What do you think NASCAR is?"

Rory's face flushed. "Be quiet, Sammy."

"Admit it, you think it's neat. You're just peeved he made fun of your singing," Sam said, turning toward Rory and smirking. The young teen glared at him, knowing he had been busted.

"I think it's time ye' went to bed," Rory said. Sam quickly slipped into his pajamas before anyone could catch him disrobing in front of Rory, and then lay back in the bed. Rory tucked him in and kissed him before leaving to his own room.

Sam smiled to himself as he thought about the way Rory and Seamus teased each other. It was probably the best part of Rory's relationships at home. He still couldn't fathom the type of relationship Rory had with his father. To him, it seemed so distant, so…lukewarm. They weren't cold to each other, but they didn't have this warm fuzzy relationship like Sam had with his own father. He almost felt like Mr. Flanagan looked at his sons as something to take care of, the way someone would take care of something at work. Then again, perhaps he was just reading too much into it. Rory did seem to get rather defensive when he brought it up.

-ooo-

Sam had laid in bed, but couldn't fall asleep right away. His body was still used to American time, and he had to find something to amuse himself until he felt sleepy. He hadn't bothered to bring his laptop – he figured he wouldn't need to bother with it since he was there to see Rory, not his computer screen.

Sam didn't dare leave the room, for fear of waking anyone up. He didn't want to practice singing, for the same reason, and he didn't feel like trying to read. It was when he noticed Seamus' box of Lego's that he found entertainment. He hadn't played with Legos since he was a kid, but his theory was that nobody was ever too old for Legos.

Two hours later, Sam had constructed a small racetrack, complete with an announcer's booth and a pit stop. The rest of it was made of pieces snapped together to form the shape of the track itself. He finished around two in the morning, or what would have been ten American time.

-ooo-

"Sammy, wake up," Sam heard, feeling someone shaking him by the shoulders. He let his eyes start to open slowly, Rory's face coming into focus.

"Do I have too? It's too early," Sam whined., wiping his eyes.

"Yes, ye' 'ave to. Ye' got to eat breakfast and then get ready. Mass begins at nine," Rory informed him.

"Nine? That's so early. What time is it?"

Rory tugged on his arm, trying to coax him up. "It's seven. Now come on."

"Seven? I just went to bed a few hours ago," Sam complained.

Rory looked at him suspiciously. "Staying up late playing with Seamus' Legos apparently."

"Yeah, I'm still on Lima time. It was only ten at home. I wasn't about to wander around the house. If I woke your dad up, he might kill me," Sam explained.

"Just don't fall asleep at mass. After we 'ave lunch, we can come home and ye' can take a nap," Rory offered. "Now get up, or I'll send Seamus in to get ye' up, and that is not a pleasant experience for ye'."

Sam groaned as he forced himself out of bed. Not only did he not want to get up yet, but he wanted to go to mass even less. At least afterward they would have a nice lunch.

After breakfast, they took turns showering. When Seamus came to alert Sam to his turn at the bathroom, he spotted the racetrack in the floor.

"Oh me gosh! Did ye' make that?" Seamus cried, crouching onto the floor and examining the track.

Sam grinned. "Yep! I couldn't get to sleep last night so I saw you had Legos. You never get too old for Legos. I thought your car would need a track when you're done with it," he explained to the happy boy.

"This is so awesome!" Seamus jumped up and wrapped his arms around Sam's waist. "You are so cool, Sam! Rory! Did ye' see what Sam made?"

Rory came into the room, and remembering Sam's words the night before, made an exclamation of excitement. "Wow, that's pretty neat! Now ye' can race ye'r model when ye' finish it," he said, smiling. Sam gave him a wink, noticing his efforts. "Ye'll 'ave to take pictures to send to Sam when ye' finish."

Seamus was beaming. "Sam, ye' better get ready, ye' don't 'ave much time before we go. Mam and pap won't let us be late for anything."

Sam nodded, grabbed his clothes off the closet door, picked up his sundry bag, and went into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom, dressed in light brown slacks, a white button up shirt, his hair gelled to the side, smelling of cologne.

"How's this?" he asked Rory, stepping into his room. "Do I look presentable for mass?"

Rory smiled. "Absolutely handsome. Ye' 'ave to wear a tie, though. Here, try one of mine." He shifted through his closet and found a pale green tie. "Here, this matches ye'r eyes."

Sam took the tie and put it on, checking himself in the full length closet mirror. "How about now?"

"Perfection achieved," Rory grinned, kissing him on the cheek.

"Boys! Time to go!" They heard Mr. Flanagan call from downstairs. They heard Seamus barrel out of his room and down the stairs, the pair of them following behind. The five of them piled into the car and started toward the church. Sam made a silent observation that Mr. Flanagan seemed to go a much longer way to get to the cathedral than he and Rory had walked the day before. He just had to wonder why.

-ooo-

It was near impossible for Sam to stay awake during the service. It would have been different had the priest had any form of liveliness to his voice, or spoke about something he could relate to, or if his accent wasn't so thick it was hard to understand. The parts in Gaelic were even more of a mystery to him. But, he did as Rory asked and kept himself awake, stood when he was supposed to, knelt when he was supposed to, shook hands for peace, and then stood aside when others went for communion. Rory had informed his father than Sam was not Catholic, however he was a Christian, and that seemed to be good enough for the time being. Ideally, Mr. Flanagan wanted Rory to marry a Catholic girl, but neither one of those were happening.

"No confession today?" Sam teased as Rory filed out after him.

"No. But ye' better believe I had to be in the confessional right when I got back from America. Had to say ten Hail Mary's and five Our Father's." Sam looked at him like he was nuts, but Rory was dead serious.

"All that on top of…?" Sam asked, referring to his rather unpleasant welcome home. Rory nodded his head. Sam just shrugged and let it go.

Rory led Sam behind the church, showing him the courtyard, while his parents mingled with the congregation. Seamus was talking excitedly with a handful of boys his age, telling them all about his model and the race track and his family's amazing visitor.

"Sounds like ye'r a hit," Rory teased. "So, mass wasn't that bad, was it?"

Sam smiled at him. "It was okay. Not my thing. The only thing that kept me awake was the constant standing and kneeling."

Several other people were milling about in the courtyard, talking, looking at the plantlife, or just sitting in quiet reflection. There was something oddly peaceful about it all. Sam had a strong urge to grab Rory's hand, but he knew that was incredibly foolish at the moment.

They walked around in companionable silence, observing the birds that were playing in the trees and the birdbath. It was the largest birdbath Sam had ever seen – large enough to be a fountain.

Rory's cell phone vibrated on his hip. "Looks like mam and pap are ready to go eat," he said, typing in a short reply that they were on their way.

"Aye, I hope ye' boys are hungry!" Mr. Flanagan said, rubbing his tummy. "Since we're all dressed up, we may as well go to the Golden Greens."

Sam stifled a giggle at the ridiculous name. Rory nudged him with his elbow. "Think of it as the Irish version of BreadstiX."

The Golden Greens was crowded, requiring a half hour wait for a table. Once they got settled down, Mr. Flanagan ordered an appetizer, as well as a bottle of wine. Figuring it was for he and his wife, Sam was surprised when he asked the waiter to pour both Rory and himself a glass.

"They don't card in Ireland?" Sam asked, bewildered. "Like they don't ask to see if you're twenty one?"

Mrs. Flanagan shook her head. "Oh no, dear. See, here ye' only 'ave to be eighteen to drink on ye'r own, and ye' can be sixteen with an adult with ye'."

"Oh, okay. That's neat. In America it's twenty one, no matter what, and they check your ID everywhere you go," Sam replied. "I think your way makes more sense."

They ordered their meals, nothing on the menu particularly cheap. Sam used his phone to convert the prices into American dollars, and his eyes went wide when he saw what some of them were. He only wanted to spend that kind of money on a date with Rory, so he picked something relatively inexpensive that sounded like it would be tasty.

Of course when their appetizer came, Mr. Flanagan led them in prayer for thanks, and then recommended Sam try some first. It was some sort of potato and cheese dip that he spread over slices of bread. It was pretty good, but easily filling.

When the waiter brought the check, Sam took out his wallet to pay for his own, but Mr. Flanagan waved his hand away. "Aye, we have it this time, Sam. Ye'r our guest."

Sam was suddenly even happier he ordered cheap. He hated to order something incredibly pricey when someone else was paying, even on a date. He always encouraged Rory to order whatever he desired, no matter the cost, but when it came time for Rory to pay, Sam always picked something cheap. Not because Rory couldn't afford it, but because for some reason, Sam didn't want him to spend all his money trying to please him. Spoiling was Sam's job, and Rory was the only one deserving of being spoiled as far as he was concerned.

-ooo-

Having eaten such a large and late lunch, dinner was merely half a sandwich and some dessert. Ice cream. Good old fashioned ice cream. Mrs. Flanagan even had waffle cone bowls that she made their sundaes in, adding chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and sprinkles.

"I don't care what country ye'r in, ice cream is universal," she explained. Someone obviously never explained to her the Japanese idea of ice cream and how terrible it was, even though Sam only knew from watching a TV show about ice cream back at home.

"Don't stay up so late tonight, Sammy. We 'ave a big fun day tomorrow. Just ye' and me. We gotta take the bus, though. It's about an hour away from here, but it will be fun! Ye' need ye'r energy though," Rory cautioned him.

"Oh? What are we doing tomorrow, hmm?" Sam asked, grinning with excitement.

Rory smirked. "Ye'll find out tomorrow then, won't ye'?" Sam rolled his eyes playfully as Rory kissed the top of his head. "Now this time, when I finish tucking ye' in, stay tucked."

"Yes, sir!" Sam said, saluting. It made him think of home – his dad and siblings always saluting, being smart alecks. Rory kissed him goodnight and trotted off to his own room. Sam wished he could sleep next to him, feel Rory's warmth, his soft skin, fall asleep to the faint sound of his breathing and the scent of his body. It was torture knowing he was in the very next room and couldn't do anything. If only they could get some time alone again, somewhere totally private that they could just make out and let their hands roam.

Sam had to admit, he was horny as hell for his boyfriend, and while he wanted to ravage him thoroughly, but that was far easier to ignore than his desire to be able to be open. The way they were at home. They could hold hands, snuggle, everything that straight couple did in public, without fear. His parents accepted it, as did his siblings. Rory had told him all about his conversation with Stevie, and his respect for his younger brother multiplied more than he thought possible.

Thinking about Stevie made him think about Stacy, and it made him wish his whole family could join him. So far, Ireland had been beautiful, an amazing place to be with lots to see. His mother would love the shopping, his father would love the architecture. The kids would love playing by the river, and they would all enjoy going to dinner with the Flanagan's, one big happy family. Sadly that would most likely never happen, just from the cost. But there was still a little inkling of hope in his heart that someday they could make it work out.

Before he could think about home anymore, Sam drifted off into a deep sleep, filled with dreams about giving Rory guitar lessons, and Seamus fighting dinosaurs with his model car.

 


	27. Episode 27: Sammy Does Derry, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Second episode in! Looks like things are going good. Maybe too good? ;) Just a side note, my lovely and talented beta is having to take a hiatus from beta-ing, so I want to thank her so much for her extensive beta-work and hope that when school calms down for her she can return. In the meantime, forgive any horrid spelling/grammar errors that I may miss starting next chapter, and be sure to check out her fics listed on her profile for they are awesome!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: SkewedReality  
> **

**Recap:**  Sam flew all the way to Ireland just to visit Rory for a week, and so far he's having a great time except for that weird stuff Mrs. Flanagan tried to feed him. Seamus is all about some Sam and is ready to replace Rory with him as his big brother, and Mr. Flanagan is a strange man that Sam still can't figure out and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 27: Sammy Does Derry Part 2**

Sam woke up once again to find Rory's face hovering over his body. "Wake up sleepyhead!" the teen teased.

"Agh, again?" Sam complained. "It's only three AM, give a guy a break," he whined, pulling the sheet over his head.

"It's eight in the morning here. Get up, we 'ave to be at the bus station in an hour," Rory instructed, yanking the sheet back down. "That means we need to leave here in twenty minutes. We 'ave to walk to the station, and I don't want to be running late."

"Late for what?" Sam asked, sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

Rory smirked. "Ye'll find out. Just wear comfortable shoes, jeans, and a tee shirt."

Sam grinned. "So no underwear? Damn, that's gonna chafe." He threw his feet over the side of the bed and started to force himself to get up.

"Yes, underwear, smartarse. Socks, too. And ye' might wanna cover up before ye' go in the hall. Mam hasn't left yet to take Seamus to the sitter, and she might pass out when she sees ye' poking out ye'r drawers," Rory teased, referring to Sam's large morning wood and snickering.

"Too bad you can't take care of it for me," Sam said mischievously, tucking himself in his underwear so he wasn't quite so noticable. He would definitely need to keep his clothes in front of him when he went down the hall.

Rory playfully rolled his eyes. "I would if I could but we don't 'ave time and the last thing we need is Seamus running in here seeing me with ye'r hard-on in me mouth," Rory said, hugging Sam and pressing up against his body.

Sam groaned softly. "You, sir, are a tease and a half!" Rory smiled and backed up.

"Don't go jerking off in me shower now, we 'ave places to be," the young teen chided, grinning as he strolled out of the room.

Sam grunted in frustration.  _That was just cruel. Getting me going like that. Agh! Oh well, when I finally do get a chance at him, hoo boy!_  He thought. It wasn't like him to have incredibly vulgar thoughts about Rory; he genuinely liked their more romantic sexual escapades, filled with mutual pleasure and love. However, being so worked up and teased, all he could think about was bending Rory over the side of the bed, yanking his pants down, and going at him like a crazy man. Sam was definitely going to have to give himself some solo love when he could get the chance.

-ooo-

No sooner had Sam emerged from the bathroom, fresh and clean and smelling of Rory's favorite cologne, than the young teen snagged him by the arm and led him out the door. They walked quickly through town, passed the Peace Bridge, across the street from the pub, and down to the bus station.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going, or not?" Sam asked, still trying to get mentally woken up.

"We're going to the Jungle," Rory replied simply. Sam looked at him like he was nuts. "Don't look at me like that, we're going to the Jungle. It'll be fun. It's an all day trip."

Sam shrugged and decided to just go with it. Afterall, how bad could a walk through the jungle be? Aside from snakes, monkeys, ticks, parrots crapping everywhere. It started to sound less and less entertaining the more he thought about it.

An hour later, the bus was pulling into the parking lot of some place called The Jungle NI. The bus driver announced the departure time for the afternoon and they set foot on the sidewalk leading inside.

"What is this place?" Sam asked, looking around.

"It's called the Jungle NI." Sam gave him a look that read  _duh._  "It has all kinds of outdoor activities. It's gonna be real fun, I promise!" Rory said excitedly.

"Oh, good, not a  _real_ jungle. I was getting a little worried there. I wasn't up for a parrot crapping on my head or getting poo flung at me by a chimp," Sam laughed. "What? You never heard of poo-flinging monkeys before?" Rory shook his head as Sam made a few monkey noises.

They walked up to a sign on the wall that listed the various activities available for them to try. Archery, clay pigeon shooting, paintball, zip lines, and zorbing.

"What the heck is zorbing?" Sam asked, screwing up his face.

"It's those big inflatable balls ye' get inside of and walk around in. Me and Seamus got to try it once at a beach. It was a lot of fun. Ye' can do like bumper cars with them if ye' want."

Sam's face lit up. "That sounds awesome! So what are we gonna do?"

"The paintball is out. It's way too expensive, and more fun in a large group. We can do e'erything else though," Rory explained. He pointed to a sign that listed prices for the various activities. Paintball, when translated into American money, was close to a hundred and fifty dollars  _each_. It  _did_  include a lot of equipment, but that was a lot of money for one activity.

Sam pulled out his wallet and started to sift through his cash. Rory pushed his hand away and urged him to put it away. He pulled out a stack of tickets from his own wallet. "I already got our tickets. I didn't want ye' arguing with me about payin'." Rory smiled smugly. Sam rolled his eyes and then hugged him.

"You're too good to me. Thank you," the tall blonde said with loving affection. Rory grinned and handed him a ticket. "I'll hold on to these. Ye'r a little forgetful," he teased. Sam stuck his tongue out at him, examining the ticket.

They decided just to go down the line and try the activities in the order on the list. Neither one of them had ever attempted archery before, and luckily for them, the targets were rather large, or else they would have never made a single one.

The instructor's accent was so thick that even Rory had to pay close attention and then repeat the instructions to Sam. The bow took a lot of strength to pull back, even if it was a compound bow. Compound bows were supposed to be slightly easier to use, but Rory struggled with it anyway. Sam fumbled with his so much that his first arrow shot directly into the ground. They each shot about twenty arrows, only making about half of them on the target at all, none on the bullseye.

The clay pigeon shooting was just as bad. Neither of them had ever shot a gun before, and rifles were difficult to hold for someone not used to it, nevermind the kickback. The instructor shot the clay discs rather low, only about twenty feet in the air, so they at least got to hit about a third of them. At one point, Sam almost hit a real pigeon by accident, sending both Rory and the instructor into fits of laughter.

"It's not my fault the pigeon was flying so low! How was I supposed to know it was a real one?" he claimed, trying to save face.

"It has wings! And it's not flat!" Rory replied, trying to regain composure, but failing. "If ye' hit that bird, it would 'ave exploded!" Sam glared at him and handed the gun over to his boyfriend.

"Let's see if you can do any better," Sam smirked. He ate his words as Rory hit the next two discs despite the fact they were only about fifteen feet up in the air. Apparently the instructor had a good sense of humor.

They decided to take a lunch break, the activities having already lasting until twelve thirty. The facility had a cafeteria, so they had ham and cheese subs and chips. After a short rest, they made their way to the tree top adventure.

The tree top adventure was not for the faint of heart when it came to heights. The zip lines covered an enormous amount of the forest, going from tree to tree. It covered well over two miles, at least as high as fifty feet in the air, going down as low as twenty feet. It was a beautiful way to experience the forest. It was like flying, except feet first and upright. They were moving too fast to take pictures, but the view was definitely memorable.

The last thing they were to do was the zorbing. It started up on a hill, and after they were secure inside the ball, they would roll down the hill, and then were able to play around the large field that had many other smaller hills and very shallow pools of water to run over.

Rory decided to be a little aggressive and chased Sam across the field, bumping him whenever he got close enough. He tired himself out after a while, and paid the price when Sam got his revenge on him.

By the time they were ready to leave, it was early evening and they were exhausted. The bus ride was a welcome break, the A/C cooling them down and the seats allowing for a comfortable hour ride back. Sam leaned up against the window, Rory leaning on his shoulder, falling asleep.

"Wake up, sleepy head," Sam said, nudging his boyfriend awake when the bus arrived at the station. "We still have a little walk ahead of us."

"On the way, can we stop and get some food? I'm kind o' hungry," Rory asked. He really didn't need to ask; Sam was pretty hungry himself.

"We'll go the long way around. I don't want to walk past the pub at this hour. It's not a good place," Rory stated. "We can eat at the tavern on the far side, closer to the Peace Bridge."

"What's the story with that pub? You keep saying it's a bad place, and your dad purposefully avoided driving by it on the way to mass. What gives?" Sam finally asked, wanting to know the truth.

Rory frowned. "It's…. it's not me story to tell. It's for me pap to share. I don't even know the story, really." He looked up at Sam who had a confused look on his face. "Please, trust me. If ye' absolutely 'ave to know, ask me pap. If he wants ye' to know, he'll tell ye'."

Sam nodded, figuring it best to drop it. Again. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of Rory keeping secrets from him, but on the other hand he had to respect that he was staying true to his pap's trust.

They stopped at a small tavern and ordered burgers and fries. Considering that was an American dish, many places seemed to have them. Rory explained that it was due to the increase in American tourism. Many of the tourists seemed hesitant to try the local cuisine.

By the time they got home, it was around nine. They walked in with no energy whatsoever, both pap and mam noticing their exhaustion.

"Did ye' boys 'ave fun?" Mr. Flanagan asked. They went on to tell him about the things they did, including Sam's near miss with the pigeon.

"I swear I thought it was one of the  _clay_ pigeons!" he insisted. Mr. Flanagan went into fits of laughter, just as his son had. Rory didn't have the energy to laugh so explosively again.

"I'm glad ye' had fun, boys. Ye' need some rest, I can see. I'll ask Seamus to be extra quiet when he goes to bed in a little bit," Rory's father stated. "Run along now, before ye' pass out on me floor."

That was the most sense of humor Sam had seen Mr. Flanagan have the entire time he was there. Mr. Flanagan had seemed genuinely interested in his son's activities and that they had fun, and making jokes, even. It seemed out of character for him, but Sam was glad for it. He knew it had to make Rory feel better in some fashion as well.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Sam asked as he took off his shirt to change into his night shirt.

"Tomorrow we just relax. Nothing really planned. Maybe go to the park, walk around town. We'll find something to do if we want, but nothing special," Rory replied, yawning.

"Thank God! I need a break," Sam laughed. "You're doing an excellent job showing me a good time though. It means a lot to me," he added.

Rory blushed a deep crimson. "I'm so happy ye'r enjoying ye'rself. I was so worried it wouldn't be enough for ye', especially since our physical contact is kind of minimal."

"Baby, as long as I'm around you, I'm happy. I do have to admit, though, that you have me wanting to ravage you something fierce," Sam teased, squeezing Rory's rear when he hugged him. The young Irishman smiled, not bothering to hide his amusement at Sam's arousal.

Rory tucked Sam into bed, kissed him goodnight, and then passed out on his own bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn't even know when it was Seamus came to bed. He slept right through the disturbance until the next morning.

-ooo-

Sam and Rory slept in until almost ten in the morning. When they woke up, Mr. Flanagan was gone, and Mrs. Flanagan was home with Seamus. Neither boy knew, but suspected, that her presence was to discourage the two teenagers from any monkey business.

"What are ye' boys doing today?" she asked Rory while he waited for Sam to finish up in the bathroom. Rory shrugged.

"We're both kind of tired. We might just stay in today. Maybe go for a walk later."

"As long as ye' have fun." She smiled and went back to her reading while Seamus carried a small box of items to the garage. More parts to work on his model no doubt.

Around noon, Mrs. Flanagan made sandwiches for the four of them. Sam was actually starting to get a little tired of sandwiches, but guests can't be choosy, and it was probably better than the alternative, which most likely would involved something equally disgusting as black pudding.

Around three, Rory decided they should go out for a little while. He was getting a little restless, having finally gotten a burst of energy.

"Mam, we're going to go into town for a little bit. We'll be home later," Rory told her.

"Okay, me son 'Ave fun and be safe. Be home in time for supper, yes?" Both boys nodded and bid her goodbye before heading out.

Both Sam and Rory were looking around idly at the scenery as they walked back into town. As far as Sam knew, they were just going to mill about, but Rory had an idea of where to go.

"Let's go to the gardens," the Irishman said plainly. Sam shrugged.

"Okay. Lead the way," Sam replied, not really worried about where they were going, so long as they were going together.

It took them about an hour to walk where they needed to go. It was a beautiful place, the sides made of hedges shaped to look like walls. There was an archway with a gate and a stone path, and through there were several more paths that led around the park, circling fountains and topiaries. It was very peaceful. It reminded Sam of the park at nationals, where he had found Rory, sobbing in despair.

"There's hardly anyone here. It's so pretty, you'd think it'd be crowded," Sam observed.

"No, it stays pretty peaceful here," Rory replied, reaching over to find Sam's hand. "This place is endless it seems. We can walk forever and never end up anywhere but here."

Sam smiled and kissed his forehead. "That was somehow incredibly poetic even if it made no sense." Rory grinned and laid his head against Sam's shoulder. They walked like that for quite a ways until they reached a clearing.

The clearing had several more couples, but it still wasn't crowded. Rory did let go of Sam's hand, obviously not feeling as comfortable holding onto him in a crowd.

They walked casually past the central fountain, smiling and nodding to the people who acknowledged them. When they made it to the other side, there was another archway entering into another part of the woods.

"In the back is a waterfall. I want to show it to ye'. It's beautiful," Rory said softly, a dreamy look in his eyes. Once through the arch, they clasped hands again, following the trail. The trees made the already darkened sky look even darker.

When they reached the waterfall, they stood before it, mouths slightly open in awe of the beauty. Sam pulled their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed the back of Rory's. They stood there in silence for several minutes, listening to the crash of water on water.

"This is amazing," Sam said, finally breaking the comfortable silence. "It's the most peaceful thing I have ever seen." Sam's eyes were glossing over as he stared in amazement at the sheer beauty of the scene. "Let's stay here a while."

"Okay. Ye' don't 'ave to ask me twice. There's a big rock over there, a perfect place to sit," Rory suggested, pointing to a large rock large enough for them to stretch out on. It was smoothed down, obviously not there naturally, but a beautiful addition anyhow.

They sat on the rock for several minutes before Rory scooted back up against Sam's crossed legs. "Hold me, Sammy. I miss ye'."

Sam smiled, looking down at the boy as he pulled Rory back against him, uncrossing his legs and spreading them on either side of the teen. He nuzzled his chin on Rory's shoulder, the pair still sitting in silence.

It was unknown to them what time it was, but it grew dark, dark enough for them to not be able to see anymore. They had sat there, cuddling, talking idly about nothing as couples tend to do.

"I guess we should head back now," Sam said, shifting a little. His rear end felt like it fell asleep. They helped each other up and off the rock, taking one last moment to look at the scene before them. Sam's hand found the softer hand of his boyfriend and they walked hand in hand through the park and all the way home, taking advantage of the nighttime lack of light to walk hand in hand without fear.

"What time is it?" Rory asked randomly about halfway home. They hadn't bothered to even look. Sam checked his phone.

"Eight thirty," Sam replied.

"Oh no! We missed dinner!" Rory exclaimed. "Mam will be mad!"

"I'm sure she'll understand. Just apologize to her. We can make it up to her somehow," Sam suggested, not worrying until he felt Rory's hand begin to tremble.

The boy was noticeably edgy. "No, no. She'll be upset. I better text her right away that we're on our way back." He pulled out his phone but the screen was blank. After fiddling with it for a moment, he discovered the battery was dead. "Oh no. What if she tried to call? Or text? What if she's worried?"

"Rory, you're sixteen, and with me. She knows you're safe. Calm down," Sam soothed, squeezing his hand. The teen was still trembling. "Come on, calm down," he urged again. He planted a soft kiss on his cheek, which seemed to bring him some sense of peace.

When they got back home, his mother was sitting in her chair in the living room, her face twisted into a look sadness and worry. "I was so worried about ye'! Why didn't ye' answer ye'r phone?" she asked, her tone obviously angry.

"I didn't realize me battery was dead. I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to miss dinner or worry ye'. I'm so sorry, mam." Rory pleaded his case. He wrapped his arms around his mother, who hugged him back, stroking his hair softly. "I would 'ave had Sam call, but his phone isn't international."

"Ye' better put ye'r phone on the charger right away. We can't 'ave this happen again. Ye'r father isn't particularly pleased himself," she replied, her tone having simmered down. She said nothing to Sam, but offered him a thin smile. He felt two inches tall.

"I'm sorry, too, Mrs. Flanagan. We were at the park in the woods, so we didn't realize how dark it was getting. I should have kept better track of the time. It's my fault," Sam insisted, staring at his feet in shame.

Mrs. Flanagan put her hand on his cheek, rubbing it with her thumb. "It is not about fault, Sam, but Rory does need to be more responsible about his phone. It's important we know where he is. He's only sixteen, still a boy." She let her hand drop and then sat back down.

They quickly made their way upstairs to Rory's room, where Seamus was sitting on the bed, playing a video game. They sat on either side of him, giving him tips on how to play – or rather, tips on how to completely mess up. Seamus asked about their adventures of the day, and Sam began to recall to him the wonderful scenery they saw.

They heard a knock on the door as it was opening. Rory swallowed hard, trembling again. His eyes were wide, locked on his father, and more importantly, locked on the object in his father's hand.

"Mr. Flanagan, I'm really sorry about us getting back late. Like I told Mrs. Flanagan, it was my fault. I should have kept a better watch on the time," Sam said, hoping to soften his obvious anger.

Mr. Flanagan ignored him, focused on Rory. "Seamus, why don't ye' and Sam go in ye'r room for a little bit. I need to 'ave a conversation with Rory." His voice was even, but in a manner that sent chills up Sam's spine. It was  _too_  even. It was... haunting in a way.

Seamus didn't hesitate. He shut off his game right away an grabbed Sam's hand. "Come on, Sam. I'll show ye' me toys," the boy said, dragging him away. Sam looked back at Rory, whose face was a mask of fear.

As they walked into Seamus' room, Sam leaned down and whispered to him. "Why did he ask us to leave?"

"Pap is going to… he's gonna…" Seamus stuttered. A tear slid down his face. He sniffled. "Rory's in trouble."

"Wait, you don't mean…?"

Seamus nodded his head, gulping.

"That's not fair! It was my fault! I should have been paying attention to the time since his phone was dead! I have to stop him from doing that," Sam announced to the kid. He went to open the door, but Seamus dashed in his way. "Seamus, move, please."

Seamus shook his head furiously. "Don't go in there. If ye' do, it'll only make it worse. I promise." The boy was trembling just as much as Rory had been. As Sam opened his mouth to argue, they could hear Mr. Flanagan's raised voice coming from the other room. He wasn't yelling, but he was louder than usual.

"Maybe he'll just yell at him," Sam said, hoping for the best. Seamus shook his head.

"No, once pap makes up his mind, that's the way it is." He reached up and twisted the door lock. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I don't want ye' to get him in more trouble." The single tear that had streaked his face had turned into several more.

Sam sighed, defeated. He couldn't bring himself to actually pick up the boy and move him out of the way. The desperation in Seamus' voice was enough to tell him that right then, he was powerless to stop what was about to happen.

Sam couldn't make out the words they heard through the hall. He realized that they were in Irish. "Hey, can you translate what he's saying?"

Seamus looked terrified, but nodded. He listened through the door, picking up pieces of sentences.

"Well?" Sam asked. Seamus' eyes were wide. "Seamus, what's he saying?"

"Don't make me say it, Sam. Please!" the young boy pleaded. "I don't want to say it! It's bad! Real bad."

Sam knelt down in front of the boy and hugged him. "Seamus, tell me. Please."

The trembling boy finally composed himself enough to tell Sam what Mr. Flanagan had said. "He told Rory that he was going to get the belt until he cried," he got out. Tears were pouring down his cheeks as if it was he who was being punished.

"What?" Sam raised his voice a little louder than he meant to. "He can't do that!"

"Yes he can, Sam. Rory is only sixteen. He already did it when he got home, for detentions." Seamus was stuttering his words, obviously fearful for his brother.

Sam's mouth was in a thin line, his eyes red. "I can't let him do that," he said, determined.

Seamus clung to Sam's legs as he started to stand. "Please Sam. Please, please, trust me. It will make it so much worse. Please just stay here. Please," he begged, burying his face into the leg of Sam's jeans. Sam knelt back down to comfort the boy, who launched himself into Sam's arms, muffling his tears. Seamus' devotion to his brother reminded him of his own siblings back home.

It went silent for what felt like forever, and then they heard the fall of something hitting flesh, and a muffled cry of pain. Seamus held Sam tighter, so tight that it started to hurt. They heard the echo again, and again, each time, the muffled cry became just a little louder.

"Hold on, Sam. Don't let go of me," Seamus pleaded. His arms were around Sam so tight that he started to feel short of breath. Either from that, or the anger that was building up inside of him. "We hold on to each other." The boy was clever - if they were holding onto each other, Sam couldn't make a mad dash out the door.

The sound of the belt making contact sounded several more times. Sam lost count. He just knew that every whimper meant he had just been hit again and he didn't  _want_  to count. He tried to block the noise from his head, tried to focus on Seamus' pleas and muffled crying. He felt like everything was surreal. It was suspended in some sort of purgatory, an event occurring outside of their moment in time. An event that couldn't be stopped by Sam or Seamus.

They hadn't realized the slapping sound had stopped until Mr. Flanagan knocked on the door and told the boys they could come out. Seamus finally let go, his face stained with tears, his chest heaving for air. He unlocked the door, looked for his dad up and down the hall, and when he saw the coast was clear, zipped quickly into Rory's room. Sam followed, daggers in his eyes.

Rory lay face down on his bed, his jeans still on, but very loose, obviously unbuttoned. He had his head buried in his arms, sobbing.

Seamus went into the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of baby lotion.

"What's that for?" Sam asked, sounding more harsh than he meant to. "Sorry, didn't mean to sound rude. I'm just tense."

"It's okay, Sam," Seamus replied. "It's to rub on his bottom. It kind of cools it down a little bit. Usually I put it on there for him, but maybe ye' should do it this time, since ye'r so close." He handed Sam the bottle of lotion. "Be real gentle, okay?"

"Got ya." Before he began, he put his hand down to lift Rory's head to look at him. Rory sobbed harder.

"It's over baby, calm down. It's all over," Sam soothed the best he could. "I'm here. I'm gonna take good care of you, okay?"

Rory nodded slightly and buried his face again, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Tears came to Sam's own eyes, but he blinked them back, needing to focus. "Try to lift your hips," he instructed. Rory reluctantly did so as Sam tugged his jeans down ever so gently. What he saw was not only horrifying, but sent waves of anger through Sam that he hadn't felt since the Azimio incident.

Sam was furious, but he was determined to aid his boyfriend first. Rory was top priority and he was in pain, and needed him right then. Numerous streaks of angry red and light purple decorated Rory's rear, criss-crossing over each cheek.

"I'm going to put the lotion on there to cool it down. I'm gonna be as gentle as I can, but it might be a little uncomfortable," Sam said quietly. Rory nodded slowly again. Sam hovered his hand nervously, not wanting to put any pressure if he had to. As he started to make contact, Seamus grabbed him by the wrist.

"Gentle! Like this," the young boy said, guiding Sam's hand as if he didn't trust him to be easy enough. Sam began to spread the cool lotion on his rear, taking extra care not to put any unnecessary pressure on the angry welts. Rory let out quiet whimpers with each touch.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Sam cooed. Rory mumbled something into his arms that Sam couldn't understand. He used his clean hand to lift up his chin. "Come on, you can talk to me."

Rory sniffled, his eyes horribly bloodshot and his face red and stained with tears. "It's… it's not the pain that hurts.' He paused for several seconds before speaking again. "It's the humiliation."

Sam was a little confused. What was he humiliated about? He was unjustly beaten as far as Sam was concerned. There was nothing to be ashamed of there. In fact, Rory should be angry.

"I feel so… so humiliated. I just got belted… in front of ye'. Close enough in front of ye'. It's horrible, I never wanted ye' to see me like this. Sam, please, let me alone. I can't let ye' see me like this."

Sam kissed the top of Rory's head. "No, baby. I'm sorry, I can't just leave you alone. I need to take care of you. You know that. You know I wont leave you. I just need you to calm down right now. You're breathing shallow and you're crying to the point of a migraine."

Rory couldn't help but sob some more. Not only had Sam seen the aftermath of his belting, but now he was pitying him. "Please, Sam, go away."

The words hurt Sam's already aching heart, but he knew Rory was only speaking out of embarrassment. "No. Don't be embarrassed baby. I'm not judging you at all. I just want you to feel okay with me. I'm right here." He was stroking the top of Rory's hair, having finished the task of lotioning his bottom. Seamus just watched the two.

Seamus knew that Sam and Rory were in some kind of relationship, but he didn't fully understand it. He just knew Sam really cared for Rory, and vice versa. He knew Sam was cool, and he knew Sam was protective. There really wasn't much else he needed to know. He loved his brother, and he would always love his brother. He looked up to him, admired him. Anything Rory did was fine by him.

"Seamus, can we be alone a few minutes?" Sam asked kindly. Seamus nodded his head and bee-lined for the door. He shut it behind him and trotted off to his own room, most likely to recover from his own upset.

"Rory, look up at me," Sam ordered softly. The teen very reluctantly looked up at his boyfriend, tears starting to well up again. "Don't cry anymore. Calm down." Rory sniffled, trying to get ahold of himself. "I love you, baby. Don't feel ashamed. I love you no matter what," Sam said softly.

"I love ye' too, Sammy. I'm so sorry ye' saw this."

"Stop apologizing. Just think about trying to get to sleep. Sleep off the hurt." Sam let him lay his head back down, patting him on the head again. "I'm gonna help you get into your PJs and then you try and fall asleep. I'm gonna stay right here with you until you do."

Sam eased off Rory's jeans and boxers, tossing them aside and gently sliding his pajama pants over his bottom. Rory winced at the slight weight. Sam exchanged his shirt for a sleep shirt and then made Rory comfortable. He kissed him on the top of his head.

"I love you," Sam said softly. Rory returned the sentiment and then put his head back down on the bed, sniffling as he fought to hold back another wave of tears. Sam turned out the light and then sat there, waiting. He was going to wait for Rory to fall asleep no matter how long it took. As soon as he was asleep, Sam had something that needed taking care of.

-ooo-

Rory fell asleep not long after Sam tucked him in. The blonde took another look at his boyfriend laying there on his stomach in the dark. He had had plenty of time to calm down. The anger in his body was on fire, but he knew if he was going to get anywhere with Mr. Flanagan, he was going to have to watch his mouth or else things would only get worse.

Sam entered the living room where Mr. Flanagan was seated on the sofa, watching the news. "Mr. Flanagan?" Sam asked evenly. "I'd like to speak with you a moment, sir." He was putting on his best attempt at civility despite his rage. His father had taught him that being mature was the only way he would succeed and this would be quite a test of his resolve.

"Aye, what can I do for ye', Sam?" the man asked, muting the television and sitting up straight. Sam stood before him, feeling strange talking downward at the man. He took a deep breath and then spoke.

"I want to talk about the form of punishment you just used on Rory," Sam said confidently, feeling  _anything_ but confident.

Mr. Flanagan responded with a look of distaste. "It is not for ye' to question me methods in me own home," he said harshly, his eyes narrowing.

Sam's resolve didn't waver. "No, you're right.  _But_  it  _is_ my job to protect my boyfriend."

Mr. Flanagan went from a look of disgust to one of curiosity. This concept seemed quite strange to him. He never thought of his son as needing a guard. "Explain ye'rself. Rory is not in need of protection here."

Sam softened his facial expression. "Look, Mr. Flanagan, I don't want to fight with you, but I won't let  _anyone_  hit my boyfriend."

Mr. Flanagan looked horrified at the accusation. "I do not hit me boys!" he blurted out, his face beginning to redden.

"Please, let's talk civil. No raised voices. I want to clarify what I meant," Sam said, realizing his mistake in his choice of words.

Mr. Flanagan looked him over with an air of genuine interest. "Fine, then. Let us have a seat here, now," he said, referring to Sam to have a seat on the sofa as well. Sam nodded and sat down a safe distance away from his gracious host.

"Thank you." Sam lowered his eyes a moment, trying to find the right words. "Rory has told me about how you punish him. To be blunt, I don't like it."

Mr. Flanagan raised an eyebrow. "Punishment is not meant to be liked, Sam. That's the point of it." Sam expected that response, but still had no idea how to reply. "What do ye'r parents do in ye'r home?" He pressed the tips of his fingers together, leaning forwared in sudden interest.

"Lecture, mostly. Take away privileges," Sam replied simply. Suddenly he felt he was going to lose this argument, but he had to keep going anyway, for Rory.

"Oh, there will be that as well. It will be taken care of after ye' leave," Mr. Flanagan stated matter-of-factly.

"Then why do you have to hit him?" Sam asked, confused and flustered. "If you're going to give him a lecture and take away privileges, then why hit him, too?"

Mr. Flanagan was disturbed by Sam's constant use of the term 'hit'. his face reddened further out of anger he was trying to restrain. "I do not hit me boys, Sam. It is not the same. It is not abuse. It is a way of bringing their attention to their errors and remind them that things in life 'ave consequences."

Inspiration struck Sam suddenly and he fired out a response. "The last time I checked, very few things in life have any form of violence as a consequence. You might lose friends, your job, your home, material things. Things you can't ever get back. Consequences far worse than anything you can dish out. Aside from a fist fight, physical violence is never a consequence of life's mistakes."

Rory's father had yet to back down. He was determined to prove his point. "Sam, ye' need to see it from me point of view. These are me boys, me life. I want to protect them just like ye' do, and sometimes I 'ave to do a little unpleasantness to drive the point home. Do ye' not see that, Sam?" His words were firm, yet almost pleading Sam to understand.

Sam didn't waver. He was on a roll now. "You know what the worst part of punishment for me was? It wasn't being grounded. It wasn't losing privileges, or the lectures. It was simply the look of disappointment on my mom and dad's faces when they found out I did something wrong. That look, it was enough to drive any point home." He paused a moment to catch his breath and finish his thoughts. "Don't you remember seeing that look yourself? Don't you know you gave Rory that same look? Don't you think that it's eating away at him right now, that look of shame?"

"Aye, but a look is not enough to make a point." He raised an eyebrow as if to note he was regaining the upper hand.

"Maybe not, but physical punishment isn't either. It just makes a kid angry, resentful, even hateful. I've seen it in my friends back when I lived in Tennessee. Their relationships with their parents are trashed. They don't feel loved, they feel nothing but fear. Fear of being beaten for every little mistake they may ever make. That's no way to live, Mr. Flanagan. Walking around in fear all the time. Do you want your boys to fear you? To hate you?" He was aiming to attack his heart strings, bring a more personal relation into the argument.

"What a thing to say, Sam," Mr. Flanagan stated, obviously hurt by the sentiment. It was working. He sat back, resting his arms at his side, feeling deflated and hushed.

"Think about it, please. Don't you see that Rory has fear of you? Every single time anything is mentioned that might even have the slightest implication of a mistake, do you know how scared he gets? The nervousness in his voice, trembling in his body? He respect you, but he's afraid, too. He's afraid of you, Mr. Flanagan. Your own son is afraid of you. What kind of relationship is that?" Rory's father simply stared at Sam, the words biting at him. "You see my point?"

The older man nodded, speaking now almost robotically as if he didn't believe the words he was speaking anymore, but still felt obligated to argue anyway. "But ye' must see mine as well. Until they are men, I am responsible for these boys, and I must do what it takes to make them the best men they can be. It worked for me, and me father, and me grandfather. It's just the way the Flanagan family has done it."

Sam stared hard into his eyes. "That doesn't make it the  _right_  way."

"When Rory is a man, he will understand." Mr. Flanagan just made the biggest mistake in the conversation yet, a mistake he himself might have realized if he hadn't been falling into a sense of confusion in the argument itself.

The fire within Sam lit again, and it burned bright in his heart as his words flowed from his mouth like water. "Rory  _is_  a man."

"He is only sixteen. No, he is not yet a man until he leaves home and is responsible for himself."

"That's bullshit," Sam said flatly. Mr. Flanagan was shocked by the comment, obviously not used to being sworn at, particularly by some kid. "Sorry, but it is. Rory is every bit the man you are, maybe even more."

Mr. Flanagan scoffed slightly. "How do ye' reason?" He raised his eyebrow again, obviously expecting Sam to either falter, or come up with something really good.

"Think about it, Mr. Flanagan. Rory left home at age fifteen to go halfway across the world by himself to a place where he knew nobody. Not a soul. He was thrown into a home of someone he didn't know, made to go to a school where he was made fun of, bullied, harassed. But you know what? He overcame all that. He made friends. He joined a club, and joined a team. He got the hell beaten out of him, could have died, but recovered completely, all the while staying brave and smiling."

Sam was filled with a new resolve. It went from proving violence was not the answer to the fact that Rory was indeed deserving of being respected as a man.

"He told his family he was gay when he was in the most vulnerable of states, and he did it without fear. He went into that courtroom, and against everyone else's wishes, stood up and demanded that what he felt was the right thing to do, be done, to the person who tried to kill him. He has survived everything life has thrown at him, things that some people die having never experienced, and he did it all with a smile, and coming out on top. Now, Mr. Flanagan, you tell me, how is Rory not a man?" He continued to stare into the man's eyes, challenging him to dare argue.

Rory's father was speechless. He looked away from Sam, not able to look him in the eye any longer. "I see ye'r point, Sam." Again he looked deflated.

"You can't tell me that Rory isn't a man, can you Mr. Flanagan? You can't say those words and justify it." Sam declared confidently.

"No, no I can't," the man said, looking down. He had lost. He would never admit it outright, but he had lost. There was no way to argue against Sam now, and his face reddened again, this time out of embarrassment that thankfully, due to low lighting in the room, Sam could not see.

"Exactly. So don't you think a man is allowed to make a few mistakes? To deal with consequences realistically and not in some archaic fashion?" Sam had to congratulate himself on the use of the word 'archaic'. It sounded dignified." Don't you think he's earned that right?"

"Then what do ye' suggest I do?" The man sounded almsot fretful.

Sam was dumbstruck. He hadn't thought about that. "I don't know. I don't have all the answers. Maybe just a simple talking to. Guilt goes a long way." He wanted to add that as a Catholic, the man should be more than familiar with the concept of guilt, but he kept it to himself.

Mr. Flanagan had a thoughtful look on his face, obviously struck again by Sam's words.

"Look, I'm not saying he's perfect. He's not. I'm not. You're not. All I am saying is that Rory is definitely a man, and he deserves a little bit more respect than you're giving him." Sam's confidence returned as he recovered from being caught off guard.

"Do you know what makes me love your son?" Sam asked, voicing the words plainly for the first time to the man. "The fact that he  _does_  face everything, and with a smile. He has faced every bit of crap the world has thrown at him and just keeps going. I respect him, and I admire him. He is a far better person than me. He's everything a man should be.  _That_ , Mr. Flanagan, is why I love him." Sam stopped, hoping the words were having the desired effect.

"Ye've said enough. Thank ye' for ye'r honesty." Sam wasn't sure at that point if he had won or just lost. The look on the older man's face wasn't giving it away either. The man had a straight poker face, but in reality, he was struggling to keep himself composed and was simply ready for Sam to go back to his room. He was exhausted emotionally in an argument that took less than fifteen minutes.

"Don't let me have wasted all my words here. Do  _me_  the respect of giving it some thought. Please. I beg you," Sam pleaded, a last ditch effort.

"Agreed. I will give ye' that, as ye' ask. For now, 'ave a good night." The conversation was over. Sam was still unsure what just happened, but he had said his piece, defended Rory to the best of his ability. He wished Rory could have heard everything he had said.

"Good night, sir," Sam replied, standing up. He stuck out his hand, which Mr. Flanagan took. The two shook hands and Sam walked away, back to Rory's room to check on him. He had done everything he could. Now all they could do was wait and see what his father thought.

-ooo-

Mrs. Flanagan looked around the breakfast table, curious as to where her eldest son was. "Where's Rory? Didn't he get up with you, Seamus?"

All eyes went to Seamus. He swallowed uncomfortably. "He… he doesn't want to come down," the boy said meekly, almost expecting his father to be angry with him. Instead Mr, Flanagan exchanged a look with Sam, a look the communicated what both men were thinking.

"He's probably just a little upset with me," Mr. Flanagan stated. "He'll come down eventually."

Sam stared down at his plate. He knew otherwise. He had knocked on the door when he had first gotten up, but instead of Rory answering, it was Seamus, with a message.

"Uhm, Rory doesn't want to come down right now," Seamus had said just as meekly as he had at the table. Sam asked why not, and Seamus bit his bottom lip nervously. "He uhm… he said he's too embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? But nobody cares what happened. I mean, we all know it did, but nobody is gonna say anything, unless your dad does, but I don't see why he would," Sam had replied. "Come on, let me in, please. I saw him last night, what's the difference now?"

Seamus had chewed his lip more. "He uhm, he said uhm, he's too ashamed to let ye' see him right now." Sam looked hurt, and had tried to open the door but Seamus was protective of his big brother and held the door firmly. He turned his head around a moment, obviously talking to Rory. "He said for ye' to go on down to breakfast. He's real upset, Sam, maybe ye' should just go down. I'll go with ye', how about that?"

Frustrated, Sam sighed. Rory could be difficult sometimes, but he tried to look at it from Rory's perspective. Having never really been in his position, though, it was hard to do.

"Sam? Are ye'r potato cakes alright?" Mrs. Flanagan asked, noticing he wasn't eating, but instead just making a mess with his fork.

"Mrs. Flanagan, can I take some food up there to him? Maybe I can try and talk him out of pouting," Sam asked, not really sure 'pouting' was the word he wanted. Rory wasn't pouting, he was embarrassed.

Mrs. Flanagan exchanged a look with her husband. "We don't really like to have food outside the kitchen, Sam. Ye'r free to leave the table to talk to him if ye' like. I'll save ye'r food for ye'."

Sam smiled at her. "Thanks, Mrs. Flanagan. I'll see if I can drag him out of that room." Sam got up, pushed his chair in, and darted upstairs. This time, he did what Mr. Flanagan always did and knocked as he was opening the door.

"Rory?"

"Sam! Don't come in!" Rory exclaimed, his voice sounding funny. His throat must have been raw from sobbing all night.

"Rory, cut it out," Sam said flatly, surprised at his own harshness. It worked, however, as it took the boy by surprise and caused him to look up questioningly. "That's right, I said cut it out."

The Irish lad was confused still. "What do ye' mean 'cut it out'?"

"Cut it out. Knock it off. Quit it," Sam clarified. He sat down on the bed next to his boyfriend, who pulled the blanket up closer to his chest. "Seamus said you don't wanna come out."

Rory nodded his head. "No, I don't want to. I want to be alone."

Sam smirked. "Too bad. I came all this way to see my boyfriend, and I plan on doing so." He saw that his aggressive tone was only upsetting the boy more, the look in his eyes confused and lost. He softened his voice. "I know you're embarrassed, but you shouldn't be. We talked about that last night, remember?"

Rory didn't reply. He just looked down at his feet. Sam waited patiently until he finally responded. "I'm not just embarrassed, Sam. I feel humiliated. I got a whacking in front of me boyfriend. Do ye' know how that makes me feel?" he choked out.

Sam wrapped his arm around him gently. "You should know – no, you  _do_  know by now that I don't judge you. I'm here for you, no matter what. Do you think I look down on you for what happened? Do you think I'm embarrassed by you because of it?"

Rory stared at his feet, never moving his faded eyes. His eyes always did that when he cried or was very upset – they faded from bright blue to slate gray.

"Don't be silly. I could never be ashamed of you. We have a long day ahead of us to fill with something. You can't waste it staying in bed sulking all day. Get up, get a shower, come eat something, and let's find something fun to do, okay?" His voice was assertive, but soft, trying to appeal to the boy.

"Sammy, I'm so sorry ye' had to see all this. It really does humiliate me, so much." He started to tear up, but Sam swiped his thumb under Rory's eye and wiped the salty tears away.

"Stop that. I told you, I'm not worried about what happened. It's over. Let's make the most of the day, or else I  _will_  be upset. If you get up now and get moving, and be a good tour guide, we can salvage the rest of the day."

Rory sighed and finally looked up at Sam's soft smile and outstretched hand. "Ye' really aren't upset with me?"

"Not if you get up."

Rory gave him a half grin and took his hand, climbing out of bed. Sam wrapped his arms around him and gave him a tight hug, refraining from squeezing his rear like he usually did.

"Do you feel okay? Do you need some more lotion or anything?" Sam asked, trying to sound concerned and not condescending.

The teen blushed a little. "I think I'll be okay. It's just sore when I sit down."

"Can I see? I want to make sure there aren't any welts or broken skin. It was hard to tell when it was fresh last night."

Rory simply turned around, biting his top lip. Sam gently lifted his PJ pants off his waist and peeked at him. There were still angry stripes on him but no lasting damage. He'd surely be sore for a couple days, but he would be okay.

"Everything looks okay. You'll be back In working order by the time you get to America," Sam said, winking at him. Rory giggled. He couldn't resist Sam's facial expressions.

"I wouldn't suggest hot water for your shower. It might burn. Try cooler water," Sam offered. "Go on, get showered up, I'll pick out a cute outfit for you."

Sam rummaged through the closet, plenty familiar with Rory's wardrobe. The boy had a strange sense of fashion. It was very old style, lots of pale colors, polo shirts, button up shirts, and vests. He picked out one of his favorites – a mostly tan and cream colored outfit with a vest and a hat. Rory looked so cute in that outfit. He needed to feel good about himself today.

"Squeaky clean? Lemony fresh?" Sam asked when Rory came back in, a towel wrapped around his waist. He nodded. Sam handed him a pair of underwear and looked away as the boy winced when he pulled them over his sore rear. Sam didn't expect Mr. Flanagan to apologize, or anything formal like that, but he was hoping his words did some good.

"Here put this on. It's one of my favorites. You look really cute in it," Sam said, handing him the various pieces to the outfit. "Perfection!" he said when Rory was dressed. He adjusted the cap on his head and stood back, looking him over. He smiled. "Yes, perfection."

Rory blushed. No matter how many times Sam complimented him, his cheeks always turned crimson. It was one of the giveaways that they were a couple. Sam would say something nice about him, and he'd blush. Only boyfriends and crushes did that.

"Let's go downstairs. Your mom saved us some potato cakes. Then we can find something to do. Your dad probably already left for work, so you won't even have to look at him," Sam offered. He took Rory's hand and led him down the hall. Rory pulled back instinctively when they neared the kitchen, but Sam wouldn't let go.

He looked back to see a look of worry on his boyfriend's features. "It's just hand holding. Baby steps, okay?" Sam had no intention of forcing the boy to display but so much affection, but he figured a simple hand hold was a good place to start. It's not like he wanted to make out in front of Rory's family, but he didn't want to have to keep avoiding any and all physical contact, either.

Sam had been right – his dad was gone to work for the day. Mrs. Flanagan was putting dishes in the dishwasher while Seamus sat at the table, looking at a car magazine. She turned toward the boys when she noted their entrance. She saw they were holding hands, but only smiled. It warmed her heart to see her son so well taken care of, even if by another man.

Seamus wasn't paying any attention. He was engrossed in the magazine. Sam ruffled his hair, eliciting a scowl from the kid. Sam went about salvaging his own leftovers while Rory fixed a plate of his own. He sat gingerly at the table, the hard chair not friendly to his butt at all.

They ended up going to the zoo, then enjoying a late lunch in town. The zoo wasn't too big, the most attractive feature being the petting zoo for touching smaller animals such as goats, pigs, and horses. There was a section that had a tiger, a lion, and a cheetah, but the enclosure wasn't very large. A pair of giraffes, a hippo, and two elephants completed the group. Rory seemed to be checking his phone every few minutes, paranoid. "Calm down. I gave your mom my number, just in case your battery died again. One or two international charges can't be  _that_  much"

Rory looked up at him and grinned. "Ye'r always so prepared, Sammy," he said adoringly.

Between the zoo and lunch, they still had a good part of the day left. When they got home, they played video games with Seamus until their father came home. Not long after they heard him come in, there was a knock at the door. For once, Mr. Flanagan waited to be invited in.

Seamus' eyes widened when he saw his father had the belt in his hand. His first thought was that he was in trouble this time, but then he knew he didn't do anything wrong. Was he going to whack Rory again?

"Seamus, I need to talk to Rory and Sam a moment. Would ye' go play for a while?" he said sternly. Seamus wasted no time in bolting out the door, most likely to his closet and listen through the wall.

Rory gulped, wondering if he was about to get round two. He and Sam both sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Me son, it was made apparent to me, that ye' are a bit beyond this method of discipline," the man said, nodding toward the belt. "I think it might be time to retire this old thing."

Sam was trying his best not to smile as he realized what was happening.

"What are ye' talking about, pap? Did I do something else wrong? If I did, I'm sorry, I-" Rory began, barely breathing between words.

"Ease down, me son. A good man brought to my attention last night that a man is too old for a whippin. Far too old. Ye' may not be eighteen, Rory, but I see now that ye' really are a man. More than many o' us. I was reminded o' a lot o' things last night, and I finally realized ye' deserve to make ye'r mistakes and face the real consequences in the real world, and not this belt."

Rory couldn't find words. He was totally confused now. What the hell was pap talking about?

"Here, take this," Mr. Flanagan said, holding out the belt to his son. Rory took it from him, and then took the large knife his father produced from his pocket. "I think ye' should go ahead and cut this part of ye' life loose. Cut it, and throw it away, me son."

Rory looked from his father, to Sam, and back again. He pulled the belt taught and ran the knife through the crease, sawing the belt in half. He then dropped the pieces into the trash can.

"Ye' look confused me son. Is something wrong?" his father asked, feeling stupid for even asking that question.

"I… I'm confused. All these years, we've grown up knowing that we would always get the belt. Even into our teens. Until we left home, just like ye' and grandpap, and great grandpap. It's been a tradition." Rory started to wonder if he was looking a gift horse in the mouth and should silence himself, but he couldn't help but express himself to his father. "Why do ye' decide now to break that tradition?"

Mr. Flanagan smiled, a soft smile that he very rarely ever gave. It confused Rory even more. "Sam, if ye' don't mind, a moment with me son, please," he said. Sam nodded and got up, going to Seamus' room. Seamus was inside, playing with more Legos.

"Is Rory getting the belt again?" Seamus asked timidly. Sam smiled and shook his head.

"No, no he isn't. They just need to talk alone," Sam replied.

"Want me to translate again?" the young boy offered, more for his own nosiness than Sam's.

Sam smiled at him again. "No. No, I don't think I need to listen. I think everything is gonna be just fine. Here, show me your car magazine." He was trying to distract the boy, not wanting him to really hear their conversation either.

-ooo-

Mr. Flanagan pulled Rory's desk chair closer to the bed and sat down. He took Rory's hands in his and looked him in the face.

"Me son, it's time that tradition was through. Ye' are indeed too old for that. Really, ye've been too old for it for a while. I guess I was just so used to going along with a tradition that I didn't put any real thought into it," Mr. Flanagan confessed.

Rory still had a look of utter confusion on his face. Why was his father acting like this? They never had a relationship where they confided in each other like this, so why now?

"Someone special to ye' brought that to me attention. He told me all about his family, what kind of relationship he has with his parents. Rory, please be honest with me. Do ye' fear me?"

Rory gulped. Was this some sort of trick question? What  _kind_  of question was this anyway? "Fear ye'? I- what- I don't know how to answer that."

"Rory, I'm sorry," his father said. "I wish I had the kind of relationship with ye' that Sam and his father 'ave. Instead, I work all the time, I so rarely do anything with ye'. I hardly even know ye' that well. I couldn't name ye'r favorite color, or food, or even ye'r favorite music."

"Pap, don't worry-"

"No, I  _will_  worry about it, me son. I realized that I could 'ave done so much better with ye'. When was the last time we had a conversation like this? Father to son, something that wasn't about punishment, or school, or something like that?"

Rory was silent, breaking their gaze and looking down at the floor. He couldn't bring himself to tell his father that the words he was speaking were true.

Mr. Flanagan squeezed his son's hands. "I'm truly sorry. I love ye', very much. I just wish I had done a better job of showin' it." His eyes were actually beginning to water. He was usually quite stoic, never even letting anyone see his emotional state when Rory was on the hospital.

"Pap, I know ye' love me. I never doubt that. I just accepted the kind o' relationship we 'ave. Not all o' them are the same. That's just how it is," Rory replied, hoping to ease his father.

His father shook his head. "No, I should 'ave done better by ye'. All the times ye' needed a man to confide in, to talk to. Ye' should 'ave been able to tell me about ye'rself long ago. I 'ave missed so many years getting to know ye', and I know I can't make up for it now, but please, me son, please let us try to change things from here on out."

Rory had no idea what to say. Never had he seen his father in such a vulnerable state. Never had his father  _ever_  asked anything of him like this. It had always been 'do it because I said so'. His father never  _asked_  him if he would do something, yet here he was, asking for forgiveness and a chance to change things.

"Pap, why…? Why all this now?"

"Ye' can thank the most important man in ye'r life for that. It was he who showed me the right thing to do. He made me realize what I was missing. It was when he asked if I wanted a relationship built around fear when I knew that I had to change something," Pap sniffled and let go of Rory's hands long enough to wipe his eyes. Rory was having the vapors as well. "Rory, I never knew just how much ye' were afraid o' me. That ye' shake and get nervous just at the thought o' being punished. It breaks me heart to know that it's been that way for so long."

"Sam? Sam told ye' all this?"

"Yes, me son. Sam is a wise, wise man. He's devoted to ye' in a way I never thought I would see a man 'ave for another. I'm proud that he is ye'r boyfriend," Mr. Flanagan said. That was the first time he had ever referred to Sam as his boyfriend and not just 'friend'.

"I never told ye' the entire story about the pub. I want to share it with ye'," Pap said. Rory had no idea how that had anything to do with the current topic, but he let him go on. "Ye' know I had a friend who was murdered by someone from the pub, but I never told ye' what kind of person me friend was. He was a gay man. We were good friends, and then one day we passed by the pub and a couple of guys jumped us. One of them stabbed him, and it killed him."

Rory had a look of horror on his face. He had never heard the details of the event, he just knew his father knew someone who died there. "That's why I 'ave been so reluctant. I thought that if ye' were gay, ye' might suffer the same fate. When ye' were hurt in America, that was the first thing I thought of. I couldn't bear to see it happen to ye' too, but I knew ye' wouldn't change."

"Pap, I-"

Pap waved his hand. "I don't want ye' to change. I want ye' to be who ye' are, and I want ye' to love that man, Sam Evans. I don't want ye' to be afraid."

They continued to talk for what seemed like an hour, Mr. Flanagan dragging more personal details from his son, wanting to know things he had missed as his son grew up. He wanted to know his favorite color (red), his favorite food (peanut butter), his dreams (he wasn't entirely sure, but he wanted it to include Sam).

When they had finished talking, they hugged tightly, tears staining their cheeks as they began a new relationship that Rory had never expected to have with his father. Once again, something amazing was happening in his life thanks to Sam.

There was a knock at the door. "Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say goodnight," Sam said, poking his head in the door. The looks on both Rory and his father's faces told him volumes about what had been going on since he had been dismissed.

"Come in, Sam," Mr. Flanagan said with a friendly smile. "Sit down with me boy." He motioned for Sam to sit down on the bed. He sat down next to Rory, who surprisingly, reached over and intertwined their fingers. Sam's eyes looked toward their hands, curious at this progressive movement.

"Me son and I, we have made amends, and I 'ave ye' to thank for it," the man said, looking Sam in the eyes. "When ye' came to me and told me- when ye' told me about ye'r family, when ye' challenged me to think about me own family, I did a lot of thinking."

Sam couldn't see it, but Rory was gazing at him lovingly, a smile pasted on his face. "Sam, ye' know so much more about family. I 'ave given me boys e'erything I can, but I never gave them what they needed. Even their mammy never got the attention she deserves. I 'ave decided I 'ave to change that."

The blonde swallowed, wondering what Mr. Flanagan was going to say. Was this sudden revelation going to result in him keeping Rory in Ireland? His hands started to sweat, and he felt a wave of heat and cold roll over his body.

"Rory, are you-? Are you staying here for good?" Sam asked, his whole body feeling like it was cold and hot at the same time. He felt sick, his head full of fear. If Rory wasn't coming back, he would just…


	28. Episode 28: Sammy Does Derry, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: This is the first chapter with my new beta team and they did an excellent job! This concludes the Ireland arc of this season, which I enjoyed writing because I loved getting to expand on the Flanagan family and their relationship, which is obviously dramatically different from the Evans family. I feel like this arc has been a good experience for Sam, because now he sees that not every family is like his own, and that if he wants to be part of it, he has to accept those differences; something I am sure any couple can relate to. Enjoy part three  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: TVTime & Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Sam went to Ireland to visit Rory, and the two of them were having a lot of fun until Rory got in trouble. Sam didn't approve, and gave Rory's father a piece of his mind, which thankfully didn't backfire and actually seemed to do some good and that's what you missed on Glee!

 **Episode 28** **: Sammy Does Derry Part 3**

"Sammy, calm down," Rory said softly. "I'm still coming back for me junior year." Sam felt a grin spread across his face without his consent, his worries melting away at that one simple sentence. Only Rory could read him so well. Mr. Flanagan gave them a curious look, to which Rory just grinned happily.

"I 'ave to admit, when I first learned of Rory's relationship, I wasn't thrilled with the idea. Like e'ery father, I wanted a beautiful girl for me son, but that seemed not to be what the Lord wanted for him. I still do not understand what the Lord wants for him when his teachings are so different, but the Lord's actions are not for me to question. Rory can give ye' the full story, but in short, I had a friend who was like ye', and he was murdered because of it. I worry for me son, that he would 'ave to overcome the same difficulties that me friend did."

"Mr. Flanagan, Rory's strong, you don't-"

The elder raised his hand as a request for silence. "I can't protect him from the world, no matter how hard I try. As ye' said ye'rself, he is a man. He has to lead his own life, protect himself."

Sam swallowed again, still nervous. What was this conversation getting to? If Rory was coming back in the fall, what was all this supposed to be about?

"Why do ye' look so nervous, Sam? Listen to… listen to ye'r… boyfriend. Calm down. Rory  _will_  be going back to America."

Sam closed his eyes a moment to gather himself. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and slowed his breathing. Some part of his mind told him that he was overreacting, but now that he was assured Rory would return, his heartbeat returned to normal "I 'ave to tell ye', both of ye', that Mammy and I, we made a decision," Mr. Flanagan started. Both boys' eyes were locked on him, waiting anxiously to hear this announcement. "I know that we told ye' in the beginning that ye' had to wait until graduation before we helped ye' start ye'r life in America. Rory, me son, we 'ave decided that if ye' choose to stay in America for good, we will do whatever it takes to make it happen for ye'."

Rory gaped. His father hadn't mentioned this in the entire time they had been talking. In fact, it seemed like he had purposely avoided asking questions about having a future in America.

"Pap I- I don't know what to say to that," Rory stammered. "I… I'm only sixteen! I can't make a choice like that! To stay with Sam and give up me family, or stay with me family and give up Sam? That's insane!"

His father smiled, easing the look of panic on Rory's face. "Relax, me son. What I mean is, we will help ye' all we can. Ye' aren't giving up ye'r family. Even if ye'r halfway around the world, we're still here. There're visits. Vacations," he explained. "I'm not asking ye' to make a decision now. But I want ye' to know that  _if_  ye' wanted to make America ye'r new home, the option is there. Ye' don't 'ave to wait. Ye' decide when ye' are ready. Before graduation or after. Anytime. Ye' always 'ave a home here. Whatever ye' want—whatever ye' need—to be happy, we can make it work."

Rory was trembling. It all seemed surreal. In the past couple of hours, his pap had broken a family tradition, confessed himself, made amends, and now he was giving him the option to come and go as he pleased. He started to hyperventilate, emotions overtaking him.

"Lay him back, Sam. He's overwhelmed," Mr. Flanagan instructed. He sat on the opposite side of the boy and pushed his hair from his sweaty forehead. It had gone from Sam's worry about Rory returning or not to Rory being overwhelmed by good news in a matter of minutes. "Don't think about it too much, me son. Just relax. Nothing is urgent. Nothing need be decided anytime soon."

"I think he needs some rest. I think it's just so much for him to process at once. You have to admit, Mr. Flanagan, you've dropped a few bombshells on him tonight," Sam said with a chuckle.

"Sam, tuck him into bed. He needs to get some sleep. I'm sure ye' boys 'ave something fun planned for tomorrow," Rory's father said, smiling down at his almost-fainting son.

As Mr. Flanagan turned to leave, Rory spoke up. "Pap? Thank ye'." His father simply smiled – a smile that was actually filled with affection. He shut the door and let Sam take care of the rest.

After Sam helped the Irish boy into his pajamas, he kissed Rory goodnight and turned off the light. Seamus was standing anxiously in the hall, most likely eavesdropping. Sam ruffled his hair and cautioned him not to wake the now sleeping brother.

Sam padded downstairs where he found Mr. Flanagan sitting on the sofa, reading the news on his laptop. He looked up when Sam walked in, giving him a nod.

"Mr. Flanagan, I just want to say… I want to say I'm proud of you," Sam told him. "I know it took a lot of courage to talk to him. I don't need to know what went on before I came in there, but it makes me very happy."

Mr. Flanagan looked at him curiously. "I never thought I would see the day when a young man would give me praise in this way. I 'ave to thank ye' Sam, for giving me so much to think about. Ye' will be a great father someday, maybe even with me own son."

"I think that's pretty far off in the future, Mr. Flanagan," Sam laughed. "But thank you. Anyway, I'm going to hit the hay, but I really am proud of you, sir. I know Rory is, too."

As Sam turned to leave and was setting foot on the stairs, Mr. Flanagan had one last thing to say. "Sam, ye'r part of me family now. Remember that." The man's eyes were glistening with happiness in the fact that not only had his son chosen a very good man, but that he himself was able to accept that man as part of his own family, and without hesitation.

Sam grinned at the older man. "Yes, sir," he replied before ascending the stairs to Seamus' room for some rest of his own.

-ooo-

Sam woke up abruptly, finding his mouth covered by a soft hand and a whisper in his ear.

"Shh, it's me, Sammy. Be quiet," Rory said softly, his body hovering over his boyfriend As Sam's brain recognized the Irish accent hissing into his ear, his body relaxed, but his brain began to race with fear.

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered back, his tone louder than the younger teen appreciated. "If your dad catches you in here-"

Rory placed his hand over Sam's mouth again. "Don't ye' worry about me pap. It's three AM, mam and pap are asleep something solid." Before Sam could protest further, he felt his shirt being lifted up to his armpits, and then his shorts being yanked toward his knees. It was then that he could feel Rory's bare skin – the teen wasn't wearing any shorts at all.

Sam started to say something, but Rory leaned down and silenced him with a kiss. He ground his hips so their erections were rubbing against each other, Rory already making drops of precum. He continued to kiss Sam, sucking on his boyfriend's bottom lip and letting his hands roam all over the muscular chest that he had been dying to touch for so long.

"Are you crazy? We can't so this," Sam whispered, forcibly wrenching himself from the soft lips of the young Irish lad. "If we get caught, all hell-"

Rory put his hand over Sam's mouth yet again, silencing the other boy's protests. "I said shh. It'll be fine. Ye' know we  _need_  this. I've been wanting ye' so bad. Just to cuddle with ye', and kiss ye', and definitely this," he whispered very quietly into his ear. "I 'ave to make up for lost time, now. Be quiet and let me 'ave me way with ye'."

"You're so forceful tonight," Sam mumbled under Rory's hand. It sounded more like "Er so orfful to ight."

"I 'aven't even touched meself in o'er a week. I'm craving ye', Sammy," Rory quietly growled into his ear. It was really turning Sam on, even though it was way out of character for his normally mellow and shy boyfriend.

"I'm craving you too. You don't know how much," Sam replied, Rory having finally uncovered his mouth.

Rory leaned down again and whispered in his ear. "Tell me about the last time ye' touched ye'rself, Sam. Did ye' think about me?"

"Last week, before I left for here. I knew – well, I thought we wouldn't get to… being so close to you, I knew I couldn't handle it," Sam replied. "I kept thinking about you. How much I wanted to just.."

"Come on, Sam. What did ye' want to do to me?" Rory demanded.

"I wanted to bend you over and ravage you," Sam admitted. This was a new level in their dirty talk: conversation they would both be blushing about like crazy if they recalled it outside of hormonal cravings.

Rory was grinding harder, driving Sam crazy. He wanted to cry out, to moan, but he knew that was not an option. They had to focus on being quiet.

Sam pushed his hands up Rory's shirt, massaging his chest, tweaking his nipples between his fingertips. Rory bit his lip, keeping his sounds inside. With each tweak, he ground harder, the pressure unbearable. If he didn't stop, they would reach the point of no return and it would be over.

Rory stopped moving his hips and kissed Sam again, hands exploring each other's chests and backs. Finally, Rory scooted up higher so that Sam's throbbing erection was behind him, nestled between his damaged cheeks.

Rory reached down on the floor a moment and picked up something. He was a clever boy, having smuggled a small bottle of KY jelly in the pocket of his PJ pants. Sam felt the cool gel coating his dick, could feel Rory's smooth hand as he stroked him.

Sam wanted his boyfriend so badly right then, having gone crazy barely being able to touch him all week. Now, feeling his slick erection sliding between his smooth cheeks, it was becoming almost overwhelming. What he really wanted was to…

"Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed, covering his own mouth as he sucked in air through his teeth. He could feel the tightness of the ring of muscle popping over his dick as Rory hovered above him, slowly sliding himself down the thick shaft, whimpering at the discomfort that always preceded intense pleasure. It was apparent that Rory was going to ride him.

The teen was wiggling his hips slightly, easing Sam inside of him inch by inch. The pleasure was almost agonizing. Sam throbbed more as he felt each clench of Rory's tender hole around him as the teen started to move up a little, and then sit back down.

Rory leaned down to kiss Sam, still moving his hips up and down slowly. Sam put his hands around his hips. Normally he would have squeezed Rory's bubble butt as he rode him, but this time he purposely avoided that. Apparently Rory wasn't worried about it, however, as he took Sam's hands and placed them on the warm globes and urged him to squeeze.

The Irishman winced at the sudden pain, but at the same time it drove him wild. Even though it hurt, the added sensations sent some sort of extra tingle through his groin. Sam started to ease up when he noticed the look of pain on the boy's face.

"Don't stop. Keep doing it," Rory demanded, softly but insistently. He was steadily riding him now, increasing his speed every few thrusts. Sam was bucking his own hips, trying to get himself even deeper inside.

Sam licked his lips. He felt like he was getting very close to the edge. No, he  _knew_  he was getting close to the edge and was likely to go off anytime. He reached between his boyfriend's legs and started to pump him, speeding up very quickly.

"Oh me god, Sam, ye' feel so good. Please don't stop," the teen hissed into Sam's ear. He started chewing his top lip, feeling his orgasm coming closer and closer.

They came at the exact same time. A week's worth of seed shot from Rory's dick onto Sam's chest, some of it landing on his lips and chin. Somehow, by the grace of the orgasmic deities, the splatter completely missed his shirt.

As Rory's channel tensed up, Sam emptied his balls into Rory's insides, the younger teen feeling the added warmth that he loved so much. It felt like something was coming alive in him, igniting a fire deep inside of him. Every time they did this, it felt like Sam was giving up a part of himself, a part of his soul. It sounded hokey, but the warmth felt like that bit of Sam merging inside of him.

Worn out and aching, Rory eased himself off of Sam's softening member and, still straddling him, collapsed right on his chest. Sam was licking Rory's seed off of his lips when the teen leaned down to kiss him.

"That was amazing," Sam whispered. "We were quiet, right? I kind of lost track."

Rory giggled. "Yeah. We were quiet. I think we both needed that," he replied, breathing heavily.

"I wish you didn't have to go back to your room. I wish you could stay here and wake up with me," Sam lamented.

Sam's little Irishman smiled. "When I come back to America, we can wake up with each other every day." He nuzzled his head on Sam's shoulder, making sure he wasn't nuzzling in cum. "I wish we had our own place. An apartment, or even a shack, just as long as it was our own. A place for ye' and me."

"Don't put ideas in my head," Sam said, a mischievous grin on his face. If only they could afford an apartment. A place just for the two of them, so they could play house like little kids. Sam could slave away all day at work, then come home and calling out 'Hi honey, I'm home!' and then Rory would have dinner ready and they'd eat, then watch TV or play some games together, then have mad passionate lovemaking before bed. The idea seemed like heaven to him. That was his new goal: to do whatever it would take to make it happen. He wanted a home with Rory, and someday a family.

"Sammy?" Rory whispered, snapping Sam out of his daze. "I better get back to me room before Seamus wakes up to use the bathroom or something." He sat up and crawled out of the bed, pulling up his PJ pants in the process.

"Good night, Sammy. I love ye'." He kissed the blonde on the forehead, then trotted off to the bathroom to clean up, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Sam started to fall back asleep when he realized his chest was still smeared with sticky cum. Sighing, he grabbed an extra pair of boxers and wiped himself clean, stuffing them away in his luggage. He pulled his shirt back down and went to sleep, dreaming about a little house on a prairie, he and Rory both wearing baggy pants and suspenders, cowboy hats, and clunky boots, just like they stepped right out of the good ol' days.

-ooo-

It was all Sam and Rory could do to hold back mischievous looks at the breakfast table. They were like little kids who did something naughty and they relished the fact they hadn't gotten caught.

"So what do ye' boyos 'ave in mind for Sam's last day?" Mrs. Flanagan inquired.

"Whatever Sammy wants to do," Rory answered, putting all the responsibility on him.

Sam paused from eating his potato cakes. "I'd kind of like to do some shopping. I want to take something back to mom, dad, Stacy, and Stevie. They'd have a fit if I came all the way to Ireland and didn't bring them something."

Mrs. Flanagan smiled. "That sounds like a lovely plan. I can give ye' a ride to the mall if ye' like."

"Thanks, Mam, but I think we'll take the bus. We might try a few other stores too, that have more unique things for him to take back," Rory replied. "Promise to be home by six though."

"Can ye' make it five thirty, boyo? That will give ye' time to get ready for dinner. We're goin' out tonight for Sam's last day," Mr. Flanagan announced. The man seemed to transform over the past twenty four hours. He went from rigid to relaxed, almost as if some sort of weight had been lifted off of his shoulders; the weight of raising his oldest boy, who had finally become a man of his own.

Sam blushed a little. "We don't have to do that, it's no big deal."

"Quiet, boy!" Mr. Flanagan barked, smiling. "We 'ave to send ye' off right. Can't send ye' home until ye' full o' Irish… what is it ye' kids say these days? Noms?"

The entire table burst into laughter. Not only was his 'outburst' worthy of a chuckle, but his use of the word 'noms' was enough to make them go into convulsions.

"Okay, okay! Five thirty it is then, right Ror?" Sam replied, trying to compose himself.

After breakfast, they caught the bus to the mall. There was a string of genuine Irish shops nearby that sold handmade crafts, among other things. Sam picked out a colorful band with Celtic lettering that spelled "STACY" and a more masculine wristband that had Celtic writing spelling "STEVEN". The kids would be tickled that they had something with foreign lettering on it, especially something they could wear to school in the fall. For his mother, he got a beautiful throw blanket with stylized Irish designs on it. She wouldn't have much need for it until winter, but she would love it all the same. Mrs. Evans had a liking for embroidery and other clothwork. It was slightly more difficult to pick something out for his father. Finally he settled on an old-style handmade Irish mug he could use for his coffee in the mornings.

Pleased with his purchases, Sam treated Rory to a quick lunch in the food court. "I kind of wanted to take you on a real date while I was here, but your dad beat me to it," he said.

Rory smiled, Sam grinning back at him. "Next time. And there  _will_  be a next time, right Sammy?"

"Yeah. Definitely. And you know your family is welcome in America any time they want," Sam replied. "I'm sure they'd enjoy a trip that was actually fun, you know, when their son isn't on the verge of death."

Both boys chuckled. Despite how traumatic the experience had been, Rory had come to terms with the incident and did his best to keep it in the past. He still had the occasional nightmare, but he was no longer stricken with cold sweats and shakes when he awoke from them.

When they left the mall, they just walked around for a while. There was a park not far from the mall, so they decided to visit that. It seemed like no matter where they were, a park was never far; even if it was the size of a house, or a stadium, there was always an area with fresh green grass, trees, and benches.

"Sam, I know I didn't make it very easy on ye' this year," Rory said softly as they walked, wishing they could hold hands as they did in Lima.

"What do you mean?"

"The accident. The drinking. The freaking out over stuff, scaring ye' at nationals. Gosh, that was a lot of stuff we went through, wasn't it?" the teen recalled. "I know it wasn't easy at all."

"Well, no. But we got through it, didn't we? It's not like it was your fault, either. Well, the drinking sort of was, but that was different. You can't blame yourself for being drugged. But the rest of it, it's not like you  _asked_  to be beaten and stabbed. You didn't  _ask_  for nightmares and freak outs, and nationals was all  _my_  fault. Don't you  _dare_  try to take any blame for that," Sam replied. "It kinda feels like it was all a book written by some sadistic bastard with a hard-on for tragedy."

Both of them laughed at Sam's analogy – it was far too accurate. Regaining his composure, Rory's voice became sincere. "It still wasn't all that fair to ye'. But thank ye', Sam. For sticking by me through all that. Staying by me side through thick and thin. I just wanted to make sure ye' knew how much that means." They stopped walking and just looked at each other.

"I would never have done it if you weren't worth every second of it. You put up with a lot too, you know. I can be a little moody sometimes," Sam admitted sheepishly.

Rory giggled. "Every couple had to 'ave at least one good fight, right? We got it out of the way early."

Sam cracked a smile. "Yeah, we did. We'll handle anything thrown at us, some way or other."

"I don't know about ye', but I'm gonna try and make this next year go smoother than last. No near death experiences, no mental breakdowns, no drunken escapades. Just a peaceful life with me perfect boyfriend," Rory said, closing the distance between them and nuzzling his head against Sam's neck.

"You must have a second boyfriend then, because I am far from perfect," Sam joked. Rory looked at him and rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, Sammy. Don't be a dork," Rory laughed, checking the time on his phone. "Hey, we better work on getting home."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we better. I kind of got the idea your dad wanted us to look halfway decent tonight."

They left the park and returned to the bus station. They arrived back home a little before they were expected. Seamus was just getting out of the shower, leaving just enough hot water for his two brothers. Seamus was notorious for taking long showers and using up all the hot water.

At six they were ready to leave. They didn't dress up like they did for church, but everyone still looked nice, Sam and Rory in polo shirts and slacks.

The family drove about fifteen minutes away to a restaurant that looked even more expensive than the one they had gone to on Sunday after mass. It was incredibly modern, with lots of tall windows, high ceilings, and black leather upholstery.

Mr. Flanagan declared that dinner was on him tonight, and as a result, Rory refused to convert prices to American money. Sam made a mental note to check the price of his meal and convert it later, just out of curiosity.

Mr. Flanagan ordered wine for everyone but Seamus, who got sparkling grape juice instead. He raised a toast to Sam's visit, reiterating that he was officially considered part of the family, and wishing him a safe trip back to Lima.

The food portions were sinfully large, most likely to match whatever absurd prices that had to be on the menu. When offered dessert, Sam kindly turned it away, but Rory insisted. They shared the dessert, for the first time feeling comfortable showing any form of closeness in front of Rory's father. The man just smiled and for the first time since their heart-to-heart conversation, gave them an approving look.

The emotions started flowing after dinner. Seamus and Mrs. Flanagan would still be asleep when Sam had to leave for the airport, so he said his goodbyes to them before bed. Seamus was disappointed he hadn't finished his model before Sam left, but he promised to send pictures. He gave Sam a big hug.

"Ye'r like me bigger big brother, Sam. Ye'r gonna visit again soon, right?" Seamus asked, a look of sadness crossing his face; however, it was unable to hide the hopeful glint in his eye.

"Yeah, we'll see each other again soon. Do me a favor, though: take care of Rory while he's here. Make sure he stays out of trouble," Sam instructed the boy. He tucked the boy into his own bed for the night, giving him another hug and promising again to come back.

Mrs. Flanagan was slightly more emotional, as moms tend to be. She liked Sam. He was polite and helpful and  _nice_ , and he made Rory happy; to her, he was a gift. She hugged him tight and kissed him on the cheek.

"Sam, ye've been such a pleasure to 'ave here. I hope it's not too long before we see ye' again. Ye' always 'ave a home here in Ireland," she said tearfully.

Mr. Flanagan allowed both boys to sleep in Rory's room for the night so they wouldn't wake Seamus in the morning on the condition that one of them sleep on the floor. They agreed, but instead of sleeping on the floor, Sam laid out a pillow and blanket so it looked like he had been sleeping there, when in reality he just slept on top of the sheets in Rory's bed. It was the only time they would be able to wake up next to each other until summer was over.

-ooo-

Sam, Rory, and Mr. Flanagan woke up at five in the morning, giving them just enough time to load Sam's bags in the SUV, shower, eat a small snack for breakfast, and then head out. They were somber on the ride there, Rory and Sam obviously sad that their time together was over until the semester started in September. The good news was that Rory would actually be returning to America a week before school began.

After helping him check his bags, it was time to say goodbye. Mr. Flanagan held out his hand, but Sam embraced him in a hug instead. "In my family, we hug. Get used to it," Sam said, smiling. He and Mr. Flanagan had come to a mutual understanding of respect: something they needn't say out loud, but that they just  _knew_.

Rory was already tearing up. He had promised he wouldn't cry, but he broke that one quick. "I love ye' so much, Sammy," he sobbed, wrapping his arms around him one last time.

"I love you too. I had so much fun. I'm glad I came." Sam said, not wanting to let go. If it were up to him, he would just take Rory with him, still latched on like an extra appendage. "I'll text you during the layover, and when I get home, okay? Don't worry about me, I'll make it back just fine," he assured the teenager.

Squeezing his eyes shut to clear the tears, Rory kissed Sam on the cheek and then watched him as he got in line for the TSA check. He felt his father's hand on his shoulder, comforting him.

"Come on, me son. Let's go home, and ye' can get some sleep. When ye' wake up, he will be halfway home already. If ye' sleep real good, he'll be all the way in Ohio," the man said.

Rory turned and hugged his father, stifling his sobs. His father said nothing, but just patted him on the back, hugging him. He had never been particularly physically affectionate before, but now that he was trying harder to mend the relationship with his boys, it felt good to embrace them this way. He liked the way it felt to have his son in his arms, to be comforting him, telling him everything was going to be okay. He hoped that when Rory's head cleared up a bit, that he would notice it too, and make just as much of an effort.

-ooo-

Mrs. Evans knocked on her son's door, not in the least bit surprised when she saw him sitting on his bed, watching TV, his game controller on one side of him, his phone on the other, his face covered in stubble, and his hair a mess. He had showered, but he didn't bother with the extra steps to make himself look nice.

"Honey, you can't sit around and mope the rest of the summer," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Sam sighed, his usual response these days. It had been three weeks since he got back from Ireland, and after about a week, the frustration and loneliness set in. At first he was grumpy, then he pouted, and now he was just mopey. Work was the only time he ever got out of the house, and even then he wasn't very enthusiastic about it.

"Alright, I see how it's gonna be," she said, a look of determination on her face. "Get up. Go take another shower and get refreshed. Shave your face, comb your hair, and put on some decent clothes. You look like a slob."

Sam's eyes popped a little bit in surprise at his mother's orders. She sounded firm but not harsh. He could sense her concern under her tone. "Nobody to look good for," he said sullenly.

"Oh yes there is. Look good for yourself. You'll feel better, just like a nice hot shower makes you feel better when you're sick. Besides, I refuse to let you go out in public in _that_." She nodded her head toward his wrinkled tee shirt and jeans he had worn three days in a row.

"Out in public?" Sam asked, confused.

The look of resolve came to his mother's face. "Yes, public. I'm sick of watching you mope around here like a zombie. Rory will be back in a few more weeks, but until then, you're going to do something productive. I'm taking you to the mall and we're finding you a project or something."

"A project?"

"Yes, a project. A hobby. Something to build, or draw, or  _something_. Something new, since I noticed you haven't bothered to play your guitar in a month and a half," she stated.

Sam looked over at his guitar. He had avoided playing it since every time he picked it up, he thought of Rory and the first time he tried to show him how to play.

"Furthermore, Samuel, you're going to play with your brother and sister for an hour or two a day. Take them to the park and play frisbee or football, or I don't know, go fishing on the lake. Build a fort, but do something and get out of this damn room and this mood you're in," she insisted.

It had been a long time since Sam had seen his mother in such a domineering mode. Generally, her tirades of productivity were reserved for the children, but apparently she felt Sam needed a kick in the seat of the pants as well.

"Come on, hop to. I'll even buy you lunch. You know, food: that stuff you barely eat these days," she added. She raised her eyebrow in that 'You better do it or else' look. The young adult sighed and gave in. He turned off the TV and got off the bed, his mother finally leaving. "You got twenty minutes, mister."

As she shut the door back, he could hear his brother and sister giggling from the other side of the wooden barrier. They were getting a real thrill out of seeing their big brother being bossed around.

-ooo-

Sam and Mrs. Evans returned from the mall around two, having eaten lunch in the food court and then spent time finding Sam something to do. He settled on a model of Bumblebee from Transformers - the character that Seamus had taken a liking to that inspired his own Camaro model. He had never put a model together before, but if a kid could do it, surely Sam could manage.

The expense wasn't so much in the plastic model itself, but in the materials - glue, paint, brushes, a finisher coating, and a decent sized piece of plywood to work on top of, because his mother forbid him to work on it anywhere but the garage. She didn't complain about the expense, however, as she was more than happy to lay down her credit card, as long as it would pull her son out of this funk he was in.

Sam was extra lucky on their shopping trip. Mrs. Evans took him to American Eagle to pick out an outfit to wear the day Rory came back. She told him he had to look like he hadn't spent the summer as a big grump and would need a new outfit to wear to take Rory to dinner.

Stevie tugged on his mom's arm when he saw them bringing in his bags of purchases. "How come Sammy gets new clothes and toys and we don't?" he asked, putting on his best 'Oh woe is me' facial expression.

"Because Sammy is depressed and needs help getting out of it. You and your sister are gonna help, too. Tomorrow I'm taking you and your sister to Sport Shack and you can pick out a new football, a frisbee, and fishing poles. Sam's gonna be spending more time with you," their mother replied.

That answer seemed to pacify the boy as he grinned and ran off to tell his sister of their mission the next day.

When Mr. Evans came home, his wife handed him the credit card receipts to add to their register. He glanced over them, his eyes widening. "Damn, what a shopping spree. Why didn't I get anything?" Just like his younger son, he put on the pity look. It was a skill the Evans men had mastered, but it never works on the Mrs.

"You're as bad as Stevie. I took Sam to the mall. I'm tired of him pouting, so I made him find a project, and he has to play with the kids for an hour or two a day, so between all that plus his shift at the pizza place, he has plenty to do to keep his mind busy for the next few weeks until that boyfriend of his gets back."

"'That boyfriend of his' is named Rory," Mr. Evans corrected playfully. His wife shot him a glare. "Yes, right, well, excellent idea. So what project did he end up with?"

"Go find out," she replied with a smirk. "I could get used to this being aggressive thing. Barking orders and stuff. After you talk to Sam, go make dinner. I'm tired."

Both of them shared a hearty laugh. "Yes, dear. Do you want take out, or frozen?" Mrs. Evans rolled her eyes at her husband's antics.

"Pizza. For the kids and all," she replied. She kissed her husband quickly and sent him on his way, patting him on the rear playfully.

Mr. Evans knocked on his son's door, but discovered he wasn't there. Confused, he turned around to find Stacy standing in front of him.

"He's in the garage, daddy," she told him, grinning. "Mommy's taking us to get a new ball and a frisbee and fishing stuff tomorrow," she added.

"And I still don't get anything! This isn't fair," her father whined. "I guess I better start pouting."

Stacy put her hands on her hips. "No whining, daddy!" she said sternly, then watched him as he made his way toward the garage, laughing to himself.

In the garage, he found Sam setting up a pair of sawhorses and the large piece of plywood.

"What'cha doin' son?" he asked casually.

Sam shrugged. "Just setting up. I'm gonna build something."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Uh what are you gonna build?"

Sam nodded his head toward the paper bag filled with supplies. "A model. Seamus was building one and it looked like it might be fun."

Mr. Evans started poking through the bag, taking out the box the plastic model came in. "Transformers huh? Neat. What are you gonna do with it when you're done? Give it to me?"

Sam chuckled. "I'll probably send it to Seamus. He likes Transformers and that's the one he likes the most."

Mr. Evans hung his shoulders. "And still I get nothing." Sam turned and gave him a confused look. "Heh, nothing. Just being a whiner."

"Better not do that in front of Stacy. You know how she is," Sam advised.

"Too late. She got me already. I got my lecture and everything," his dad replied. "I'm gonna go order pizza and hot wings for dinner. You wouldn't be interested though, being all moody and stuff."

Sam paused. "Did you say hot wings?" he asked with sudden interest. It seemed like in the course of a day, he had been pulled a good amount of the way out of his funk. He was going to text Rory and tell him about it all, but Rory was on vacation, where his phone had no signal.

-ooo-

Mr. Flanagan had planned a family vacation the day after Sam left to go back to America. Having sudden inspiration to be a more involved father and husband, he decided a week away from work and home would be a perfect opportunity to bond. He booked a cruise, secured plane tickets to the port the ship was leaving from, and announced that in three weeks they would be on a fancy ship off the coast of Spain.

None of them had ever been to Spain before, but it sounded like fun. The ship would make three port stops during the week. The rest of the time they would be on the ship, which had plenty to keep the busy. A casino, a gym, a spa, an indoor pool and an outdoor pool with a waterslide, an arcade, two restaurants and a buffet, a disco, a large auditorium for shows, and several activities such as shuffleboard, mini golf, and table tennis. The ship even had a group for kids ten and under with planned activities—lunch included—should Seamus find himself needing something to do or make friends.

The plane ride to the port in Spain was the worst part of the trip, as all plane rides tend to be, but once they actually got on the ship and into their state rooms (Rory and Seamus in one, their parents in the other), the stresses ceased and the fun began.

The entire trip, Rory thought about Sam and how he wished his boyfriend could be there with him, but instead of letting it depress him, it only inspired him. The more fun they had, the more determined Rory became to see to it that he and Sam got to go on their own cruise, just the two of them. His first order of business as soon as they got back home was to do some research online to find out what the expense would be and how much he would need to save up.

Mrs. Flanagan was so excited about the spa that she booked an appointment for three days of massages and was determined to spend at least a half hour in the gym every day, followed by a nice rest in the steam room. As soon as they got a chance to explore the gym, her husband was quick to agree to join her.

Seamus was excited to be part of the kids group and making friends. He still spent time with the family, but the gym, spa, and casino were off limits to someone his age, so he would need something to do while the rest of his family was doing those activities.

The shows every night were amazing. The final night was Cirque de Soleil, but the other nights included comedians, magic tricks, a ventriloquist, singing and dancing, and a talent demonstration. They were all elaborate, utilizing special effects, loud music, audience participation, and some of the most unique talent acts they had ever seen.

Regardless of whatever activities they had been doing during the day, Mr. Flanagan insisted they have dinner together as a family, whether it was in a restaurant or the buffet. There wasn't a chapel on board, but the auditorium was utilized as a place for religious celebration Sunday morning. Mr. Flanagan agreed that the Lord would understand if they missed a full mass to spend time as a family.

Rory did spend some time by himself. He preferred to try the gym without his parents watching over his shoulder, and the idea of being in the steam room with his father wearing only a towel was simply disturbing, so he arranged for those things during separate times. Better still, he was privy to two massages as well, both of them incredibly relaxing. He decided then, too, that he would save up to pay for Sam to have a massage back in Lima. Maybe even a full day at a spa. This trip was giving him so many ideas on how to spoil Sam like a prince.

The three trips to port were spent browsing the town and shopping. Rory felt compelled to bring something back for his American family, settling on a shot glass for his 'dad', a winter scarf for his 'mom', and handmade paintings mounted in 8x10 frames for the kids. Sam was the difficult one. Rory would have loved to bring him back a Spanish guitar, but that was a pipe dream. What he settled on was a guitar strap, hand crafted and embroidered with a Spanish design. It would definitely go better with the guitar than his plain black nylon strap.

The week finally came to a close, and as soon as they got back to Ireland, Rory started flooding Sam with text messages. He didn't rub in the fact that the trip had been so wonderful - he knew it would only depress him to think about Rory having such a good time without him. Instead, he told him how much he missed him, and some things he wanted to do over the next year. He told him he had been practicing his swimming so he could increase his speed, and how Seamus was almost done with his model. He decided he could tell Sam all about the vacation when he got back to America, when he could show him pictures and snuggle up in his arms.

-ooo-

Sam actually found his model building to be quite therapeutic. He would get up, get showered and dressed, and then work on it for a couple of hours at a time. He set up his iPod on a set of speakers and listened to music, even singing along occasionally, while he sanded, glued, placed, and painted the various pieces. It was much more complex than he thought, but he found that as long as he followed the instructions to the letter, it was actually quite easy. He made a trip to the mall to buy some more glue and came home with not only more glue, but a second model and several jars of paint.

"You finished the other one already? What did you get this time?" his mother asked when she saw him passing through the kitchen to the garage.

"Optimus Prime," he replied simply. The only reason she had any idea what an 'Optimus Prime' might be was because Stevie had so many Transformer toys. "It's for after I finish Bumblebee. I needed some more glue and saw this."

She nodded. "Found a new hobby apparently," she said, smiling.

"Nope. It's therapy. Once Rory gets back, my modeling days are done for a while," he replied. What she didn't know was that he had already done some 'modeling' for Rory and those pictures were locked away on his boyfriend's iPhone.

"Still giving the first one to Seamus?" she asked, returning to the cookies she was baking. There was a potluck at her office and she volunteered dessert; twelve dozen cookies she had been slaving over since noon, complete with frosting and decorative candies.

"Yep. I'll send it before Rory comes back, so he can see it. Seamus doesn't know he's getting it yet. I don't even think Rory told him I was building one. It'll be a nice surprise for him." Sam grinned and then continued on down to the garage. He turned on the light and set his new supplies under the table. He was almost done - only another coat of paint, then the gloss finisher and Bumblebee was ready for action.

-ooo-

Rory and Seamus spent more time together than two brothers should have to at one time. Rory was basically free babysitting, which was good for his parents, but lack of freedom was getting on his nerves.

They went to the local public pool just about every day, but Seamus wanted to play around, keeping Rory from being able to do laps. Instead, it seemed like there were always an odd number of kids at the pool, and of course they wanted to play water sports. They couldn't have uneven teams, so Rory would have no choice but to play.

He tried to read and play video games, but Seamus always wanted to play too, and sometimes Rory just wanted to play his games alone. He could only defeat Seamus so many times before it got boring.

He tried to work a routine for himself, despite his brother's annoyances. He would get up, run on the treadmill, lift weights, and then shower. Around noon he would make lunch for himself and his brother, and after his parents came home, he would help with dinner and get another round of exercises done after. The rest of the time was spent trying to appease Seamus or find some way to hide from him.

"Hey boys, I got a surprise for ye'," Mr. Flanagan announced two weeks before summer was over. "I 'ave tickets to the race track Saturday. It's the last one of the summer season."

"Wow! Really?" Seamus exclaimed.

"Yes, really, me son. The three of us. ye'r mam has no interest in the race, so she's going for a ladies' night with her friends," he answered. "The track is a couple hours away, but it should be fun."

Rory smiled. "Sounds really great, Pap." It seemed that whatever he and Sam had talked about really was really being taken to heart. Never before would his dad have taken him and his brother to a race. Send them off together, or with their mother, but he would always be too busy. For his pap to tear himself away from his work for an entire day—and for fun, no less!—was quite an expression of love.

-ooo-

Excited that he finally finished his first model and was ready to send it off to its new owner, Sam proudly displayed it on the kitchen table for everyone to see. He took numerous pictures, beaming the entire time. The next day he went to the FEDEX shop to purchase a box and wrappings. Sam wrapped the Bumblebee model up in so much bubble wrap, packing peanuts, and tape that King Kong could step on it and not damage it. He scribbled a note to the boy and addressed it, then took it back to FEDEX and shipped it off.

Now it was time to start Optimus Prime. The time until Rory returned was drawing ever nearer, and once Rory returned, the chances of Sam finishing anything went right down to zero.

-ooo-

Saturday came and the boys joined their father to the race track. It was two hours away, but Rory had brought something to read, and Seamus brought his Nintendo 3DS. Rory spent most of his time texting Sam back and forth and playing the latest Angry Birds game. The Birds had gone from the farm, to Rio, to outer space, and now were flinging themselves through the water.

The race was exciting. It was only Northern Ireland competitors, but that was quite a few. Two hundred and fifty laps around the track, followed by a display of car-related stunts and drag races, and then a one hundred lap race. Midday they had jumbo hot dogs and nachos, both slathered in cheese and chili, with huge sodas, looking like a bunch of Americans at a baseball game.

Seamus fell asleep on the way back almost the second his head hit the seat back. Most of the ride, Rory and his father made small talk, Rory sharing with him what classes he would be taking, what glee club was like, songs he hoped to perform. Mr. Flanagan asked him about Sam and what kind of things he enjoyed doing aside from glee club and video games. He told him about Sam's guitar playing, his previous football 'career', and his nerdiness with Avatar, among other things.

When Rory inquired about work, his father dismissed his questions. "We've spent enough time worrying about work, me son. Now is the time for me to know ye' instead. Time is short before ye' leave, I'd like to say I at least spent a little time with ye'."

"Well pap, ye' know, as much as ye' say ye' don't know me, I don't know ye' very well either. Ye' never really talk about things ye' like to do, or places ye' wanna go. Ye' ne'er talk about ye'r past, growing up or anything. If we're gonna bond, don't ye' think it should be even, a little me, and a little ye'?" Rory suggested. He was right, his pap had never shared much about himself: hobbies he enjoyed, things he wanted to do, or places he wanted to go or had been. He never talked about growing up or anything else. It had always been about work, how the boys were doing in school, or small talk that amounted to next to nothing.

"I suppose that's fair," his father replied with a smile. "Ask away, me son." With that, they spent the remainder of the ride back talking about his pap, Rory finding out more in that hour than he knew over sixteen years.

-ooo-

Three days later, Seamus received a package in the post. A note was left in their box, informing the Flanagans that because the box was large, they would have to pick it up at the parcel office. All four of them were curious - Seamus wasn't old enough to order anything himself, and neither his brother nor parents had ordered him anything, and it wasn't his birthday anytime soon.

Rory recognized Sam's messy handwriting on the label as soon as they picked it up. He bit his bottom lip to keep from grinning. The return address simply listed the name as S.E.

Barely able to contain his curiosity until they got home, Seamus tore into the box as soon as he got into his bedroom, the rest of the family gathered anxiously around him. Rory knew who it was from, but had no idea what it was.

"BOOM!" Rory shouted as Seamus opened the lid. Mrs. Flanagan screamed, and smacked him in the side for scaring her. His father snickered, receiving a smack of his own.

Seamus removed the object from the box. It was heavy, whatever it was. Packing peanuts littered the floor. Seamus started to unwrap the tape and bubble wrap, Rory picking up the wrap and popping the bubbles.

Now that the object was fully unwrapped, they could see what it was: a plastic model mounted atop a wooden stand. The stand was sanded down and painted, finished off with a glossy texture. The Transformers Autobots logo was painted on the front, along with a single word: "Bumblebee". Rory made a mental note to ask Sam who did the writing - it was far too neat to be his own.

"Wow..." Seamus was speechless. The model was amazing. Bumblebee was posed in a fighting stance, armed with a gun on one hand. He had a glossy finish and the painting was near perfect. "Who-? Where-? Where did this come from?" he stammered in shock.

"Look, honey, there's a note on the floor," his mother pointed out. Seamus picked it up and started to read it, but the writing was too messy for him. He handed it to Rory to read.

 _Dear Seamus,_

 _I made this for you. I hope you like it. It's my first one ever, so it's special. I know you'll take good care of it._

 _Your biggest brother,_

 _Sam_

Rory grinned widely as he read the note aloud. "That's really cool."

"It's awesome!" Seamus exclaimed. "He made it just for me!"

"He must really like you, Seam. That's his first one and he sent it all the way here. It's real special now, so ye' better take real good care of it," Mrs. Flanagan told him.

Seamus' eyes were shining the same way Rory's did when he was happy and excited. "I'll take good care of it, mammy, I promise! I won't let anything happen to it, ever!"

Rory pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of his brother holding the model up and sent it to Sam.

 _You made his lifetime. That was awesome of you. Love you!_

A few minutes later, Sam sent a reply.

 _I'm glad he likes it. Don't worry, I got something real special for you when you get here. Love you too._

Rory grinned mischievously. He had a feeling he knew what it was Sam had for him - a wild night in bed to get out their sexual frustrations. Though they'd had sex once during his trip, it wasn't the kind they were craving. They wanted the kind where they could lay in each other's arms afterward, cuddling until they fell asleep. The kind where they could go on and on without worrying about getting caught.

 _Send me a pic_

Rory smirked at his naughty request. Sam knew what he meant when he asked for a pic. He never sent fully nude pictures (except that one time when he was showing his rear), but he sent enough to tease him. This time he sent the most suggestive one yet. Sam was standing in the mirror, the only thing covering him was his hand over his manhood. He had scrawled "I love you" on his chest with a marker or makeup or something in red.

 _Send one back_

Rory on was a little more shy about sending pictures. The bravest he got was one where he had pulled his pants down just enough show his butt, but he had yet to show anything as naughty as Sam. He figured this time he would go just a little bit further. He snuck away to his bedroom where there was a full length mirror. He pulled off his shirt and lowered the waistband of his pants until they were so low, that he could just barely see where his penis met his lower abdomen. He snapped the pic and then sent it, feeling a little foolish.

 _Hot! I love that you blush when you send pics._

That only made him blush more as he realized that Sam could see his cherry cheeks even in the picture.

 _Hush Sammy. No touching yourself until I get there, either_

Rory grinned at his evil order. He had no intention of masturbating either. He wanted their first encounter when he got back to be filled with passion and lust, fueling them into hours of hot sex.

 _You better not jerk off either! If you do, I'll know!_

Sam was right, too. He would know. Rory shot substantially more and further when it had been a while, and he knew that if Sam saw him shooting not very much, he'd be busted.

They exchanged a few more messages before Rory had to go eat dinner. He sent Sam one last picture - himself blowing a kiss into the camera.

-ooo-

Rory stood in the Derry Airport, waiting for his family to find a parking space. Despite the fact they couldn't go past TSA, they still insisted on parking the car and coming inside to see him off. In other words, his mother wanted to watch her baby boy trotting off into the distance to big, bad America.

The night before, she had been a basket case, asking him fifty questions to make sure he had everything with him.

"Yes, mam, I packed me video games. Yes, mam, I packed me new clothes. Yes, mam, I packed me toothbrush. Yes, mam, I'll text ye' when I land. Yes, mam, I'll make sure to eat on the layover. Yes, mam, I'll be sure to give Sammy a hug for ye'. Yes, mam, I 'ave me laptop and me notebooks and e'erything else." And so the entire day had been, Mrs. Flanagan asking questions and Rory's standard answers beginning with "Yes, mam,".

Mr. Flanagan was much more relaxed. He was saddened that his son was leaving again so soon after working on developing their relationship, but he knew it was important that Rory go – not just for the educational experience, but to be with Sam. He tried to retain an aspect of stoicism, but his eyes betrayed him and he let a few tears streak his cheeks.

"Make sure ye' give this to Sam right away!" Seamus instructed, giving Rory an envelope with stickers sealing it shut. "It's  _very_  important!"

"What is it?" Rory asked.

Seamus folded his arms. "That's none of ye' business! It's for  _Sam_  and only him. No peeking, and I'll find out!"

Rory smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I got ye'." Seamus then latched his arms around Rory's waist. "I'm gonna miss ye', Rory," he said, tears in his eyes. "I won't 'ave anybody to play with."

Rory knelt down and hugged his brother. "Yeah ye' will. Ye' start fourth grade this year. Ye'll make friends. Ye'll have so much fun, ye'll forget all about me."

"I can't ever forget about me big brother!" Seamus argued into the older boy's shoulder before pulling back. He moved back to stand with his parents and made a visible effort to compose himself, trying to act with the same stoicism his father was attempting.

Rory gave them all last hugs, dropped his bags off at the bag-check, and made his way to the TSA station. When the plane took off, he looked out of the window, down at the ground and said simply, "Goodbye, Ireland."

 


	29. Episode 29: Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Not much to say in the notes this time really :p Just thank you for reading and leaving reviews (because reviews make me squishy inside) and I hope you are all enjoying Season 2!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Sam finally returned home to Lima, but was bored to tears and his mom had to break bad on him and force him out of the house for a while, but that's okay because he ended up taking up a hobby, meanwhile Rory and his family went on a cruise and it gave Rory ideas for something to do with Sam but now it's the end of the summer break and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 29: Return**

Sam paced nervously in the airport waiting area where arriving passengers could reunite with their families and friends. His mom and dad were waiting in the baggage claim, just like how—when he'd arrived in Ireland—Rory had made his parents wait. Sam knew his parents would've let him come to the airport alone, but Rory would have a lot of luggage and they'd need the extra trunk space.

"Flight 3245, inbound from New York City has arrived and will be deplaning shortly," came an announcement over the loudspeaker. Sam's ears perked up; that was Rory's flight. New York had been his layover. He would be exhausted by the time he got in, the time shift throwing him off yet again. It would be late afternoon in Lima, but bedtime in Derry.

Ten minutes later, a crowd of passengers started filtering out through the exit. Good thing, too, since Sam was about to wear tracks in the floor from pacing. He kept looking through the crowd, scanning for the familiar brown hair and blue eyes of his boyfriend.

"Sam!" he heard a voice cry out. He spotted Rory as soon as the Irish boy spoke. Sam ran up to him, threw his arms around his boyfriend, and picked him up off the ground, the carry-on bag in the smaller boy's arms falling to the floor as the hands holding it were now otherwise occupied attempting to crush the blond boy's ribs.

"I'm glad to see ye' too," Rory chuckled. He kissed Sam on the cheek, picked up his bag from where it had fallen, and they made their way to the baggage claim. Or, rather, Sam picked up his bag. Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying Rory's luggage.

As Sam and his parents had predicted, it ended up being a good thing they had the extra space; even with his winter wardrobe still at the Evans' house, Rory still had a ridiculous amount of baggage.

"Are you hungry?" Sam asked, grabbing Rory's hand and squeezing.

"No, I ate in New York. I'm just really tired out," the teen replied, his eyes already looking droopy. He yawned, his eyes watering. He went to wipe them with his hands, but Sam refused to let go not wanting to release the boy he had missed most of the summer.

"We'll get home and then you can get comfortable and go to bed. I'll keep watch," Sam offered. "I'll unpack some of your stuff while you sleep, so you don't have so much to do tomorrow."

Rory smiled. "Thank ye', Sammy. I'm not back an hour yet and ye'r already trying to spoil me."

"Damn straight," Sam said. "Anything for my man." He pulled him closer, still clutching his hand. Rory thought he may never get it back, that amputation may be necessary should he ever need to do anything that might require both hands. Mrs. Evans peeked into the rearview mirror, grinning as she noticed her son's bright smile – a smile she hadn't seen in over a month.

Upon arriving at the Evans', two blonde blurs zipped from the living room floor and latched onto Rory's legs with vice-like grips.

"Oh Mr. Rory, we missed you so much! It wasn't the same without you!" Stacy squealed happily.

"Yeah, Sammy was a big grump the whole time. Mom had to force him to play with us, and all he did was-"

"Snitch," Sam said playfully to his little brother. Stevie looked up at him and beamed. While the kids were welcoming their favorite friend back, Mr. and Mrs. Evans settled payment with the babysitter, and Sam started bringing in luggage.

"Jeez, what do you have in here, rocks? Dead bodies?" Sam grunted, bringing in one of the larger suitcases.

Rory laughed at him. "No, just me little brother. He wanted to visit, so I had to pack him away. Check and see if he's still alive when ye' get the chance. Mam and Pap wouldn't let me poke holes in the nice suitcase, so I hope he didn't run out of air."

Stacy and Stevie giggled at the thought of Seamus being locked up in a large suitcase like a pair of dirty socks as Sam groaned at the Irish teen's attempted humor. Oh, how he'd missed Rory's cornball remarks.

Having been properly welcomed back, Rory was tired and in bad need of sleep. Sam smothered him in wet kisses before letting him strip down to his boxers and climb into bed. He would have climbed in with the other boy, but he was nowhere near tired and knew if he did, he'd end up trying to molest the brunette all evening. Instead, Sam turned out all but the desk lamp so that he could see enough to start unpacking.

Sam was surprised at the amount of clothes Rory had packed. He didn't remember him having so many outfits. Some of it had to be new. He couldn't wait to see Rory wearing them; the boy could wear garbage bags and look hot.

He'd unpacked and put away most of Rory's clothes when dinnertime rolled around. At his mother's summons, Sam turned off the lamp and joined his family in the kitchen.

"Where's Mr. Rory?" Stacy demanded as soon as Sam walked in the room.

"He's sleeping. His body is still stuck in Ireland time, and it's five hours later there," Sam explained to his sister. She seemed to accept that answer and removed the scowl from her face. "You can see him in the morning."

After dinner, Sam finished up moving Rory's things in  _their_  room, hooking up his boyfriend's game system and laptop. He wanted absolutely everything to be just like it was when he'd left, so, when he woke up, it would be like he'd never departed from the house.

Sam carefully put away Rory's toiletries, noticing he was in need of a new toothbrush. He threw it away in the trash and replaced it with one of the spares in the closet. Mrs. Evans kept a healthy supply of toothbrushes, loofahs, and sanitary wipes on hand as if she expected the entire army to commandeer the house.

Satisfied and anxious to take his rightful place in bed, Sam stripped down to his boxers and slid in next to his boyfriend. As if on instinct, Rory rolled over and draped his arm over Sam's chest, nuzzling his head in the crook of Sam's neck.

That night was the best night's sleep Sam had gotten all summer.

-ooo-

Rory woke up earlier than the rest of the house, his body having not yet adjusted to American time. If past experience was any indicator, it would take almost a week before he got acclimated to the change. He disentangled himself from his sleeping boyfriend and slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, noticing his luggage was empty and stacked neatly in the closet next to his shoes, his pants and shirts hanging right above them. He checked the drawers – his underwear, socks, and pajamas were already in place. He saw his Wii was hooked up already, and his laptop sitting on the desk, plugged in with the charge light blinking steadily.

It made him feel warm inside, seeing how Sam had taken the initiative to move him back in. Sam wasn't the neatest boy in the world; his room could often be rather messy, especially before Rory came around, but the way he had so neatly placed everything spoke volumes about how important it was to the blonde to have everything just right for his boyfriend.

He pulled on his clothes from the previous day, kissed Sam on the cheek, and then left the room, taking his laptop with him. He set it down on the couch and then browsed the kitchen, taking care not to slam any cupboard doors. He smiled when he saw a fresh jar of peanut butter on the shelf. He took off the lid, stuck in a spoon, and enjoyed the first spoonful since he left for Ireland, suppressing a moan of sheer pleasure. The smooth spread tasted just as good as he remembered.

A little restless, he padded out to the pool, noticing the addition of a few toys. He had an urge to swim, but didn't have his suit, didn't want to risk waking Sam by going back in the room, and was not about to attempt skinny dipping again after his embarrassing encounter with Mr. Evans last year. He would just have to go in his underwear, he decided. He stripped off his shirt and jeans, then lowered himself into the pool. The water felt so good against his jetlagged body, still sore from sitting in uncomfortable airplanes for hours on end.

Rory let himself float a little before working into a backstroke. He made laps around the pool, basking in the warmth of the sun coming in through the windows and the soothing water on his skin.

"I see you didn't waste any time," Sam's voice echoed in the room. Rory stopped abruptly, almost drowning in shock, and popped his head up out of the water, sputtering.

"I didn't mean to wake ye'." He apologized, swimming up to the edge.

"You didn't. I woke up when I felt you weren't in my arms anymore," Sam replied. "It's been months since I got to sleep with you; don't you think I might notice something missing?"

Without ceremony, Sam dropped his boxers on the floor and shucked off his shirt and jumped right into the pool.

"Sammy! Ye'r mum and dad are here! What if they catch us?" Rory protested.

"Oh they won't be up for a little while yet. Besides, we're just swimming."

Rory looked a little nervous. "O-okay. But just for a few minutes." Sam nodded in agreement and waded over toward him. He wrapped his arms around his treasure, kissing him. He felt Sam pressing against him, but noticed the other teen wasn't stiff with arousal.

The first time he noticed that, he worried that perhaps he wasn't turning the blonde on anymore. Later, Sam explained that just because he wasn't hard didn't mean he wasn't attracted to him: it just meant he wasn't horny; in that moment, he wanted nonsexual physical attention. This was a new concept to the Irish boy, having not been in a relationship before. Not long after that, Rory noticed the same occasionally happened to him, too; he'd just never realized it before.

They tread water for several minutes, kissing and holding hands until Rory finally felt too nervous to enjoy it. "I'm sorry, I'm just… they might catch us. I mean, I have on me shorts, but ye'r kind of lacking those."

"Okay, okay. But after we dry off, come cuddle with me?" Sam pleaded with the sad puppy dog face. Rory smiled and nodded lovingly. They got out of the pool, Sam drying off and pulling his clothes back on. Rory had to put his jeans on without underwear, an odd feeling since he had never gone commando before. When they got back in their bedroom, he put on a fresh pair of boxers. Both boys tossed their shirts aside and climbed back into bed. Sam wrapped his arms around him as Rory fumbled through the channels, looking for something to watch. He was too awake to sleep, but Sam quickly dozed off again. Rory put it on the History Channel and within minutes had fallen right back asleep.

The boys woke up to the sensation of bouncing on the bed. Sure enough, Stacy and Stevie were far too excited over Rory's return to let them sleep any longer. They sat up in bed, reaching for their shirts. Stacy wrapped her arms around Rory the second he pulled his shirt down.

"Mr. Rory, I missed you  _so_  much! So did Sammy. He was really sad while you were gone," the young girl stated. "Don't ever leave again, okay?"

Rory laughed and didn't say anything. He knew he would have to go home during the summer, but didn't even want to entertain that thought yet.

"Will you help me get on the soccer team this year, Mr. Rory?" Stevie pleaded. "Sammy sucks at soccer!"

"Stevie, don't say 'sucks'," Sam scolded. He felt like a hypocrite, having said far worse before, probably even in the presence of his siblings, even though he tried very hard to be conscious of his language around them.

"Sorry, Sammy," Stevie said softly. "But it's true. You're not very good at all."

Sam screwed up his face. "Thanks for the support, buddy."

"Sure, I'll help ye', but ye' gotta help me get Sammy better at playing, too," Rory promised.

Stacy sat back on her feet and scowled. "You're not gonna get hurt again, are you? Last year when you got hurt, I was really sad. I don't want anything bad to happen again. You're gonna be real careful at school, right, Mr. Rory? Sammy isn't there to keep you safe anymore, and I have school."

Rory patted the small girl on the head. "Don't ye' worry, me girl. I'll take care of meself just fine. I've been exercising all summer, see." He flexed his arms, showing off the little bit of muscle he had gained. Stacy squeezed as hard as she could, unable to squish the bicep.

"Yay! Beat up anyone who gives you trouble, okay?" she instructed. "If you need help though, Sammy can come get me and I'll beat them up."

"He doesn't wanna be saved by a  _girl_ ," Stevie said, rolling his eyes.

"I would be honored if ye' helped me out," Rory told Stacy, gently patting her on the head, "but I don't think ye' need to. This year is gonna be a lot better, I promise."

Mrs. Evans called them for breakfast, the two children bee lining for the kitchen as if there was gold on their plates. She and her husband asked Rory a multitude of questions – What had he been up to all summer, had he worked at all, did he go anywhere for vacation; how were his parents doing?

He told them about the cruise, keeping most of the details to share later with Sam. He debated on telling Sam about his desire to take him on a cruise, but ultimately decided to mention it another time. He also told them how much Seamus had enjoyed Sam's visit and how excited he had been to receive a package addressed solely to him, with a wonderful prize inside. Sam blushed at the gushing compliments that Seamus had given him.

"It'd be wonderful if they could come for a visit sometime and actually enjoy themselves. Or at least send Seamus for a visit," Mrs. Evans commented.

After breakfast, the boys decided to take a walk to the park, something Sam hadn't done all summer. He had purposely taken the kids to a different area of the park to fish, not wanting to be there without his mate.

"How're our friends doing? Ye' know, the ducks and the turtles?" Rory asked, smiling.

"Fine, I guess. I haven't been over there. It's not the same without you," Sam replied sheepishly, his face pinking slightly.

"That's okay. That's kind o' sweet o' ye'," the Irishman said, kissing him on the cheek.

Sam linked hands with him as they crossed the park. It seemed more and more natural to be affectionate in public. Sam wasn't nervous anymore – he was proud to have Rory by his side, and if anyone had a problem with it, they could go to hell. He even stopped noticing the disapproving stares they occasionally received. They weren't out to make a statement - they just wanted to be able to do the same things in public that any other couple could do.

After they arrived at the bridge, Rory leaned over and started greeting the fowl. The ducks quacked excitedly as he tossed down some stale bread, acting as if they hadn't eaten in months.

"They're so cute. I want some ducks when we get our own place," Rory said offhandedly.

"You want to get a place together?" Sam asked, knowing the answer already.

Rory shrugged. "Don't ye'?"

Sam nodded his head. "Of course I do. It's just a shame we can't afford it," he added, sighing.

"How much does it cost? For an apartment or a house?" Rory asked, ideas in his head already, but, sadly, he had no concept of the costs involved with renting a place to live.

"More than I got. Pizza delivery doesn't exactly pay rent," Sam explained. "I need to get a second job anyway. Or a regular full time. I need to get something to make more money."

Rory scrunched up his face in thought. "If ye' worked full time, could we afford it?"

Sam scoffed. "Uh, no, sorry. Rent is way more than what I could be making, and even if we could make rent, there's all the bills. Electric, cable, water. Food. That adds up quickly. And with you not being able to work, well, that doesn't help either."

"Yeah, true," Rory replied, disheartened. "What if there was  _some_  way to make it happen?"

Sam put his arm around his boyfriend. "If it was possible, I would do it in a heartbeat. You and me, on our own. All the privacy we want." He winked at the last part.

"Maybe I can find out how I can work. Then we can at least start saving money for when we  _do_  have enough to get a place of our own," Rory suggested. "Even if it's only a few hours, it's better than nothing."

"Maybe if it's something on the side, like under the table."

Rory looked confused. "Why would I work under a table? Doing what? I can't even sit all the way up, I'd hit me head."

Sam burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Just the way Rory said it: dead serious, completely unaware of the blunder. "Working under the table just means you get paid on the side. Like you don't get an actual paycheck, they just hand you some cash. It's what a lot of young kids do."

"Oh," Rory said simply, his face flushing "I guess I am definitely back in America when the slang stops making sense again."

Sam kissed him on the top of his head. "You're just so cute it should be illegal. You can be the rowdy jailbird and I'll be the tough warden that has to keep you in line."

Rory blushed at the innuendo. "I bet I can find something. I want to contribute, too," he said. In his head he was already doing math, trying to figure out what it might cost to feed the pair of them. He still had no clue how much utilities or rent itself cost.

"Don't worry about it. If it were possible, I'd let you stay home and never have to work. I'd give you everything you ever wanted. You'd never be sad or want for anything ever again," Sam professed. Rory took his hand and squeezed, looking up at him.

"Sammy, as long as I'm with ye', I won't be sad. Not ever," Rory said. He gave Sam a soft smile and nuzzled his head against his shoulder. "We'll talk about it more later. I want to see what me mam and pap think about the idea."

Sam shot the Irishman a confused look, but refrained from asking any questions. He assumed Rory was asking for their opinion more out of courtesy than anything else. Although, Rory had told him all about how his father had been making a lot of effort to try and mend their relationship, so perhaps that was why. Of course, his dad had given him sound advice before regarding their relationship, so maybe they were a little closer than he knew.

"What are ye' thinkin' about?" Rory asked, noticing the look of deep thought on Sam's face.

Sam grinned. "I was just thinking how much I want to have some ice cream with you," he replied, the smile lighting up his eyes. "Come on, I haven't bothered to get ice cream since you were gone, either."

"Did ye' do  _anything_  while I was gone?" the Irishman asked, teasing. Sam shrugged.

"Pouted a lot. Worked on my models. I gave Optimus to my dad. He's gonna put it in his office at work, but I wanted you to get a chance to see it first. I played with the kids some. Other than that, and work, not much else," Sam confessed. Hearing the words, he realized just how pathetic he sounded.

"I think it's cool ye' made those models. I guess Seamus rubbed off on ye'," Rory pointed out. "He's so proud of the model ye' gave him. He told e'eryone he knows, from receiving his very own package to what was inside it. He has it on his dresser in his room. He wanted to take it to school and show off but Mam and Pap don't 'ave time to take off work to take it to school so it doesn't get ruined."

Sam chuckled. "I'm glad he liked it. I was worried it might not be good enough since it was my first one."

The younger teen gave Sam a playful punch in the arm. "Oh, please. It's wonderful. He loves it. Mam bought him a display case kind of thing, to keep the dust off of it. Pap put plastic over the letter ye' sent with it and attached it to the bottom for safe keeping."

"I'm just glad Seamus liked me. He was so quiet and shy the first time I met him, I thought he might not like me at all, but he seemed to really open up this time around." Sam put his arm around his boyfriend and pulled him closer. "Does he know… about us?"

Rory gave him a half smile. "Kind of. It's kind of like with ye'r sister. We're 'special friends.' He knows that means we're close like a boy and a girl but I don't know if he really grasps the concept o' what that really means. Now that he knows ye', I doubt he even cares."

Before they knew it, they reached the end of the wooded trail and crossed the street to the ice cream shop. Sam paid for their cones and they sat down to eat.

"I missed this," Sam said, grinning and licking away some of the melted drops that were trying to escape down his hand.

"So did I. Mam doesn't buy ice cream much."

Sam laughed. "No no, I meant I missed  _this._  Spending time with you. Silly stuff like this, getting ice cream or walking down the trail."

"We 'ave a whole more year to think about what to do, ye' know. Me pap said I can stay here anytime, remember?" Rory reminded him. "I just wish it was that easy. To just say goodbye to Ireland and stay here."

Sam put his hand on Rory's. "Face it later. We have too much to worry about right now anyway. You start school in another week, and I have to get a full time job, or a second part time job."

They discussed job options for Sam – what he may want to apply for, having no real experience and not yet having a college degree. After having had so much trouble in high school, he had decided that college wasn't for him, at least not for the time being. Even still, he didn't want to serve fast food, and ideally didn't want to do anything too disgusting. Not having a guidance counselor anymore, he would have to rely on himself, or ask his parents for advice.

Rory needed to do some thinking, too. He had two years left, counting this one, to figure out what college he wanted to go to and what to study. He also had to figure out how to go about finding a job that paid under the table.

They spent the rest of the day inside, watching Avatar, playing FIFA on the Playstation 3, and then eating dinner. That night, when everyone else was asleep, they made love for almost an hour. Rory kept Sam on the edge for an agonizingly long time, drawing it out until they were both so close that they exploded simultaneously, coating each other inside and out.

After cleaning up, they laid in bed, nude, cuddling until they both fell asleep.

-ooo-

It was only a week until school started again, and Rory was rightfully nervous. He wouldn't have Sam there with him at all, though he would have the remaining glee club members: Blaine, Tina, Artie, and Sugar.

"What are you nervous for?" Sam asked after Rory confessed his apprehension. "Last year you started school knowing only Brittany, and she didn't even really hang out with you. You put up with teasing but you made it just fine, and then I came along. Trust me, you can manage."

Rory leaned his head on Sam's shoulder. "Thank ye', Sam. Ye'r right, I shouldn't be nervous. I guess I just wish ye' were there with me."

"I dunno, I think it might be good for you. I mean to have something you have to do on your own, without me," Sam suggested. Rory looked back with a half-confused, half-hurt expression on his face. "No, no, I mean it will be good for you to face everything without me in the way." Sam realized there was really no way to put it without sounding insulting. What he really wanted to say was  _You have to toughen up and be strong on your own, because I can't always be there to protect you._

Their discussion over, they simply stayed sitting on the bed, cuddling. Sam had been more and more cuddly as of late, it seemed.

"Rory, baby?" Sam said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, Sammy?"

"I… I really am sorry. About, you know, nationals," Sam answered, his face turning a dark shade of crimson, hanging his head as if in shame.

Rory scrunched up his face. "I thought we agreed to put it behind us. Not to dwell on it."

Sam shrugged. "I know, but… I still feel really awful about it. Sometimes, when I look in your eyes, I just see that hurt there, and it kills me. Doing  _anything_  to make you cry is like one of the seven deadly sins to me. I have to do something to make it right."

The young teenager sat up straight and pulled Sam's chin over with his fingertips. "Sam, I forgive ye'. What more do ye' want?"

The blonde looked him in the eye and replied, "To make it up to you."

Rory sighed. Sam was having serious guilt issues about something he was ready to put past them. "There's nothing to make up for. I'm not sad about it, so there's no hurt to see in me eyes, ye' understand Sam?"

Sam smiled and nodded, dropping it for the time being. Even if Rory insisted he was over it, Sam could still look at him and see the pain, almost like he was looking deep into his very soul, seeing the scar he had left. He'd never forgive himself as long as he could see that.

-ooo-

Rory's gifts to the Evans family were very well received. Mrs. Evans loved her scarf, anxious for the cold weather to settle in so she could wear it. The festive colors seemed just right for her personality. Mr. Evans put his shot glass to immediate use, testing with a shot of coffee. The children were excited about their paintings. Almost instantly they were demanding their brother mount them in their rooms.

"Next time give them something that doesn't put me to work," Sam teased, nudging Rory in the side as the children went on and on about their pictures. Lastly, Sam received his guitar strap. His eyes lit up upon opening the wrapped package. He knew immediately what it was, but neither of his siblings had the slightest clue. Stacy thought it was a belt, and Stevie thought it was a necktie of some sort. Sam ran to grab his guitar and swap out straps, proudly throwing it over his shoulder to show it off.

"You are so awesome. I love this! I've wanted a new strap, because this one's worn out, but couldn't find anything I liked. This is perfect!" Sam exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek. Neither Stacy nor Stevie said anything about the display of affection, both having stopped questioning why their brothers did such things.

Later in their bedroom, Rory was going through his messenger bag when he came across Seamus' envelope. "Oh yeah, here. This is from Seamus." He handed the decorative envelope over, Sam grinning as he took it.

On the front was Sam's name scrawled in messy handwriting similar to his own. He tore it open and took out the card. Several snapshots fell out of it onto his lap. Sam picked them up and started to look through them. They were various pictures of Seamus' model, some of them on the track of Lego's that Sam had constructed.

_Sam,_

_Thanks for the awesome model! I love it! You're_ _the coolest big brother ever! I'll send you something special soon. I put some pictures of me model in here for you. I promised I would. Take care of Rory, he needs watching out for. Thanks again!_

_Love, Seamus_

"Aww, that was so nice of him," Sam said, thumbing through the pictures again. Rory snatched up the card and read it.

"That little bugger. 'Coolest big brother ever.' What am I? Rotted soil? 'Take care of Rory, he needs watching out for.' What's that supposed to mean?" he pouted, tossing the card onto the bed. "No wonder he said not to open it."

Sam put his arm around him. "Don't be jealous. He's super excited. Let him be happy. Trust me, you're the coolest guy ever, no matter what Seamus may say," he said, kissing him on the side of the head. "He just wants to make sure I take good care of you."

Rory smirked. "He's still a bugger. I wonder what he's goin' 'to send ye'." Sam shrugged and pulled his boyfriend next to him on the bed, spooning him.

"Maybe another model to put together. Who knows? I guess we'll find out later," Sam replied. "Don't be bitter. Just snuggle with me."

"Okay, if ye' insist," Rory teased. He rolled over to face his blonde, looking into his beautiful green eyes. "I could get lost in ye'r eyes and stay there forever. They're like the sea."

Sam grinned. "Mine are like the sea and yours are like the ocean. And I'm trouty mouth and you're a champion swimmer. I think this relationship has an unhealthy obsession with water." They both giggled at his observation. It did seem rather amusing that their relationship was so "aquatic," as it were.

-ooo-

And lost he became, as the next week passed by quickly. He re-acclimated to the time change and started to prepare for the next week, when school would start again.

Sam was dreading the beginning of school more than Rory was. The beginning of school signaled the time that he needed to start looking for real work. His parents had allowed him to keep up with just the part time pizza delivery job through the summer, with the understanding that once Rory went to school, he would take on full time work.

The graduate had no idea where to start. When asked what his goal was, he would say that he wanted to make an album of his own one day. After a long conversation with his father, he realized that he had a long way to go, and would need to find some way to get himself more familiar with the business.

Taking his dad's advice, Sam started to look into media-based jobs around the area. News casting, public access television, radio. He was willing to even be a janitor if it would get him in the door. Getting inside was the hard part. Once he was in, working his way around would be the less challenging part, or so he thought.

-ooo-

"Bye, baby. I'll be thinking about you all day long," Sam said, kissing his boyfriend on the mouth. He got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the door, letting Rory out. The Irishman stood up out of the car, grabbing Sam's hand as he did.

"I'll be fine. I've got our friends, remember?"

"I know. I guess it's just weird for me. It's the first time I'm not going in there, and everyone else is," Sam admitted. "Now I have to find a real job, too. It's kind of scary. I feel like a kid trapped in a grown-up's body."

Rory gave him a warm smile. "Don't stress, just focus on what ye' need to do and do it. That's what they say on the telly."

Sam suppressed a giggle at Rory's word choice for a television before replying. "You're right. I guess you better get going. I'll be here to pick you up as soon as your last class lets out. I promise." He kissed Rory one last time and watched him go into the school. He couldn't help but stare at the boy's rear, accented by his snugly fitting pants.

-ooo-

Sugar Motta was the only person in Rory's homeroom that he really knew. They sat next to each other, relaying their summer vacations. Sugar's was by far more impressive with a new trip every other week, all involving luxurious hotels, yachts, and beautiful beaches, all of which she had pictures of on her iPad.

Rory smiled and nodded kindly as she showed him picture after picture, recounting the tales of her travels. His summer was far less fascinating, but it meant a lot more to him than her trips did to her. For Sugar, luxury was her life. She was used to getting whatever she wanted, and having anything she could imagine. Even though Rory's family was decently well off, they still didn't live to the extreme Sugar did. Sam's visit in particular meant way more to him than anything else. Sam's visit brought a lot of change into his home life, particularly with Pap. Things like that couldn't be bought. Things like that didn't have pictures, or hotels, or yachts, but they had memories, and those were far more valuable.

The Irishman was glad when homeroom actually called to order; anything to get Sugar to stop with the pictures. Rory liked Sugar well enough as a friend, but she definitely tried way too hard to get people to like her. Rumor had it, too, that she had a little bit of a crush on him, but that was last year.

Rory made it through his first couple of hour-and-a-half long classes and then it was time for lunch. He was excited to see Tina, Artie, Blaine, and Sugar all sitting together in the cafeteria. Tina waved him over to make sure he saw them.

They exchanged tales of their summer vacations. Tina spent her summer mostly with Mike, going on a trip to China for two weeks. He didn't leave for college until a week before school started, but thankfully he was only a couple hours away.

Artie spent his summer at A/V camp. There, he learned more about directing, synchronizing audio and visuals, and all around gaining more experience with the technical side of performing. Over the past two years he had found that part of the art to be much more to his liking, since he was unable to dance and often felt like spectacle or gimmick.

Blaine had spent as much time with Kurt as possible, taking a week's vacation in California together. Kurt moved to New York with Rachel a full month before college began; securing an apartment and getting settled in before everything got hectic again. The two men had agreed to maintain a long distance relationship, with hopes that once Blaine graduated, he would either attend NYADA himself, or at least find reason to move to New York.

-ooo-

Glee club wasn't scheduled to start until Tuesday, and from then on meeting every Tuesday and Thursday and Fridays were reserved for glee performances should they have one. The swim team wouldn't be meeting until after the new year, when the season started. Nonetheless, Rory was going to be very busy. It would make life without Sam at school a little more bearable. So much to do, it would keep his mind off of missing him all day.

As he had expected, Sam was standing by his locker at the very end of last period. Rory's face lit up when he saw him leaning cooly up against the locker, a smug grin on Sam's face.

Rory hurried up to him, sticking his hand out to touch him. "I just had to check and make sure ye' were real. I've been thinkin' about ye' all day, I thought I might be seein' things."

Sam grinned and pulled his hand from behind his back, a single white carnation. It had green tips on it; obviously dyed through colored water. He handed it to his boyfriend and kissed the blushing teenager on the forehead.

"How was your first day back?" Sam asked, paying no attention to the strange looks a few people gave as they walked by them.

"It was alright. I got to see our friends. It seems kind o' weird though, so many o' them gone," Rory answered. He opened his locker and stuffed his textbooks in it, switched out what he needed to take home with him, and crammed them in his bag. He was about to reshoulder it when he felt Sam's strong hand taking it from him.

"Yeah, I bet it's weird. Especially not seeing Brittany. I mean, you started the school year with her last year. And Kurt, and Mike, Rachel and Finn. Wow, yeah, it must be really weird," Sam lamented. "At least there's no Santana."

Rory scratched his chin. "It seemed kind o' empty. Like something was missing all day," the Irishman stated. "At least all we did all day was go over syllabuses and sign out texts. They should 'ave just sent the paper in the post. I can read."

The Irish boy felt thick fingers tickling his own as Sam's hand found his, fingers linking together. Sam led him outside to the parking lot, where his car was. The chivalrous graduate opened the door for him, and then shut it behind him. Before he got in himself, he turned around and looked back at the school.

Sam had never considered himself particularly sentimental when it came to things like school, but for some reason it seemed so odd coming back, but not going to class. Instead he was just dropping off and picking up his boyfriend, not worrying about studying, or tests.

"Sammy? Sammy?" he heard the young teen calling. It snapped him out of his daze, letting him finally duck into the driver's seat.

"Are ye' alright?" Rory asked, concerned over Sam's seemingly strange behavior.

"Just remembering stuff. I guess actually going back inside brought back a lot of memories," Sam answered, a content look on his face.

Rory raised an eyebrow. "Good ones, I hope."

The smile on his boyfriend's face was enough to answer Rory's question. "Yeah. Lots of them. The past two years sure were a wild ride." Rory just smiled in return and Sam began the drive back home. Rory told him about particulars of his day, explaining Sugar's photobombing and the activities their friends had over summer break.

When they made it home, Sam followed Rory inside just long enough to change into his delivery uniform. "I'm working until ten thirty, so if you're tired, you don't have to wait up," he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

"And miss kissing ye' goodnight? I don't think so," the brunette argued with a smirk. "I went a whole summer not getting me kiss goodnight. I'm not passing any up now that I'm home."

Sam smiled at the sound of Rory calling their bedroom 'home'. Even though he had lived there with Sam and his family for half a year, it was nice to see that Rory still thought of them as his home, his family. A summer away didn't change that one bit.

Sam went on to work, leaving Rory to amuse himself with a video game until the others came home. The children were excited to see him as usual, Stevie begging for him to play soccer with him. Stacy sat outside and watched them, scribbling on her drawing pad with her markers.

During dinner, he relayed his day to the rest of the family, feeling like things were already falling into place again. He sat on the couch and watched Family Guy with Mr. Evans before calling it a night. He sat up in bed, reading on his Kindle, a content smile on his lips. Next to him on the bedside table, the white carnation sat in a glass of water. What a wonderful way to end the school day – finding his boyfriend standing by his locker to greet him with a pretty flower and a kiss.

About ten, his phone started to vibrate on the table. A text from Sam.

_Gonna be around 11. Gotta help with cleanup at the shop. I'll kiss you when I get home, asleep or awake. Love you!_

Eleven wasn't too late, but Rory was already yawning. His eyes weren't focusing on his Kindle screen anymore, so he turned on the TV. There was a rerun of The Simpsons, which sent him off to sleep before he had the chance to even slide down in the bed.

-ooo-

The first day of glee club was a little somber. The only students left were Rory, Sugar, Artie, Blaine, and Tina. The rest of the original group had graduated. That meant they needed seven more people to join the club in order to qualify for sectionals. In the past it had been a chore to recruit one or two people, let alone seven.

"I know it might seem a little discouraging, but Artie, Tina, you both remember what it was like when we started out. There was only you two, Kurt, Finn, Rachel, and Mercedes. By sectionals we had the twelve needed, so I know we can do it again, right guys?" Mr. Schuester tried to encourage.

Sugar stood up. "Uhm, in case we can't find anyone, I can always pay some people to join. Daddy would never let us disband the club," she said excitedly.

"Thank you, Sugar, but I think we'd really prefer to have people join because they  _want_  to, not because they were  _paid_  to," Mr. Schue replied. Sugar shrugged and sat back down.

"Don't turn her down just yet, Mr. Schue. If we get desperate…" Artie began. Mr. Schuester sighed, knowing that Artie may very well be right.

"In the past, we always did a performance to rally participation. Don't you think we should start there?" Tina suggested. "Sign up sheets and a song usually are a good place to begin."

Blaine nodded his head. "I agree. We should do a really awesome performance in the quad this Friday. If people see how much fun we're having-"

"Not to interrupt your enthusiasm, Blaine, but nobody ever seems to care how much fun we're having. They just try to break us down either way. Come to think of it, we usually end up getting people for the oddest reasons," Artie said.

"Don't knock him down so soon, Artie," Rory piped up. "I think they 'ave the right idea. What else are we gonna do anyway?"

Sugar stood back up. "If we need special effects, my daddy can totally make sure we have whatever we need. The flashier the better!" Nobody could really argue with that. To get seven more members, they were going to need a miracle, and flashy song and dance was all they had going for them at the moment.

"So what are we going to sing, Mr. Schue?" Blaine asked. He hadn't thought far enough ahead to have a song selection ready. "We need something that showcases all of us!"

"Agreed. Anyone have any suggestions?" Mr. Schuester asked. His five students all looked blank faced. They were dry on ideas, too.

They spent the remainder of the session thinking of song ideas that would give each of them a chance to show off their talent. That wasn't an easy task, either, since they had such a varied range of voices. They needed something that was going to catch the ears of everyone in the quad. Something they could add flashy special effects to. Something that would really 'wow' everyone.

They left that afternoon still undecided what to perform.

-ooo-

Blaine gave Rory a ride home, Sam having had to go to work before glee was over. Rory invited him in, asking if he wanted to dig around for a song selection. They went to Rory and Sam's room, Rory tossing his bag on the bed and booting up his laptop. Sam's computer was already up, but he preferred to use his own – somehow he felt it more respectful of Sam's privacy, even though they didn't really keep any secrets.

He plopped down on the bed, leaning on his elbows and moving his fingers around on the trackpad, pulling up his iTunes. Blaine sat in the desk chair, his ankles crossed, leaning forward, attentive.

"So, what do you have on there?" the brown eyed boy asked.

"Come look," Rory replied, patting the comforter next to him. Blaine got up and plopped down next to him, feeling a little awkward being so physically close to someone that wasn't Kurt. Of course, he rarely thought of such things, but ever since Kurt left for New York, he seemed to be more aware of what he didn't have. He had already been craving just to cuddle with his boyfriend, but from hundreds of miles away, that wasn't possible. He would settle for a good hug, and being so close to Rory, who gave great hugs, he was tempted to just wrap his arms around him and squeeze.

The only thing was, he didn't want a friend hug from Rory. What he wanted was a romantic hug from Kurt. The kind of hug where they pressed up against each other, feeling the heat between them, the contours of each other's bodies. The kind of hug that made his knees weaken just a little bit. The kind of hug that warmed his heart and drained away all of his stress and pain. That wasn't something he could get from Rory.

"Blaine? Ye' okay?" Rory's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, the Irishman's nudging him in the shoulder.

Blaine gave a weak smile and shrugged it off. "Yeah, sorry. Just having a moment. So uh, what kind of playlists do you have?"

Rory eyed him suspiciously. "A moment? Ye'r missing Kurt, aren't ye'? I had the same 'moments' when I was in Ireland." He went to ruffle Blaine's hair in an act of comfort, but there was so much gel in his hair that Rory's hand came away slightly sticky.

Both boys giggled and then went into a full laughing fit. "Kurt always used to tease me that I used just a tad too much gel. I guess that proves it!"

Rory got up and ran to the bathroom to rinse his hand off, plopping back down on the bed afterward. Blaine seemed slightly more at ease, as if for a moment, his thoughts of Kurt weren't plaguing him.

"Ye' know, ye'r welcome to visit any time ye' like," Rory offered. "I know what it's like, missing the person ye' love. Me and Sam, we can keep ye' company."

Blaine smiled, this time a happier grin of genuine contentedness. "Thanks. That means a lot." He looked back at the screen and started pointing at various artists, Rory clicking madly to keep up with Blaine's pointing.

-ooo-

Blaine left shortly before dinnertime, the boys having selected three songs they wanted to present to the rest of the glee club. Rory was going to ask him to stay for dinner, but he felt a little odd asking someone over for a meal when he hadn't even asked first.

When Sam came home, it was around eleven again. He hated staying out so late, but any extra hours were sorely needed. He was pushing for more and more hours, but the pizza place could only afford but to give him so many. If he reached forty a week they had to consider him full time, and that wasn't in their interest.

As he had the night before, Sam sent Rory a goodnight and his love on a text around ten, and then when he got home, he silently stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed, kissing Rory on the forehead and whispering his love once again, just to be sure.

-ooo-

When Sam picked Rory up from school, he dropped him off at home, changed, and ran out the door in a matter of minutes. He was running behind and didn't want to waste any time getting into his deliveries. More deliveries meant more money. He kissed Rory goodbye and went on to the shop to pick up his first route.

Rory spent the afternoon working on his first assignments for the semester, listening to music, and reading. He hadn't been asked to watch the kids yet, and truth be told, he wasn't anxious to get into that routine yet. He adored Stacy and Stevie, but they tended to wear him out, and he wanted to get back into the swing of things a little bit before taking up his babysitting duties again.

Around nine, he sent Sam a text message, asking if he was going to be much longer. Sam replied that he had two more deliveries and then he would be on his way home. Rory grinned in anticipation. He might actually get to see Sam for more than a few minutes! His excitement overtaking him, he started rushing about the house, trying to get some things ready for what would be their first evening—and not just sleeping next to each other at night—together since school started.

 


	30. Episode 30: Heights and Lows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Our first major arc of drama since Rory's return from Ireland! *ominous music plays*  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Rory returned from Ireland and Sam went out of his way to welcome him back. They didn't have long before school started, where Rory had to go on without Sam by his side to protect him. Tings aren't looking too good for the glee club, which only had a handful of members now that everyone else graduated and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 30: Heights and Lows**

_I hate, I hate, I hate Lima Heights_. Sam thought to himself. It was his last delivery, and of course it had to be in Lima Heights, at almost ten at night. Lima Heights: one of the worst parts of town.  _How in the hell did Santana grow up here?_

His eyes were tired, and his dyslexia was kicking in, which seemed to always be an issue when he got really tired. Numbers started to move all over the place and it gave him a headache. He couldn't remember if it was forty-two, or twenty-four that he was supposed to be stopping at. There was no way in hell he was going to stop and ask anyone if they knew what area either one of those buildings was in.

Squinting, Sam rode slowly by an apartment complex, a cabinet of mailboxes out in front. He was trying to read the numbers and the names, to see if he could figure out the right one. He had his window down, curbing the glare that was coming from the street lights. He almost could make it out when he heard a voice call out.

"Hey! White boy!" he heard. The voice carried that particular lilt which Sam had come to associate with a Hispanic accent. He foolishly, and nervously, eased on the break, the car stopping in the lot. He looked around once, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from, and, when he turned back around, he'd found the barrel of a gun pointed between his eyes. "Whoa, what the-?" Sam said, surprised. The assailant had seemingly come from nowhere.

"Get out, cracker. Now," the voice said in a cold, demanding tone. "Get your hands up while you're at it." Sam didn't need to unlatch the door – the thug was opening it for him with his free hand, the gun still trained on the blonde's head.

Sam began to shiver just a little bit. It was too early for fall – the shiver was from fear. He started to back away a little when he stepped right into another person.

"Where you goin' cracker?" the other person asked coolly. The second man grabbed Sam's biceps and held him in place.

"What do you want? Let me go!" Sam demanded angrily, struggling against the vice grip holding him in place.

"We want your car you little shit. And your wallet." The first thug answered harshly. "Now quit struggling, just give it up, and you don't get hurt."

Sam weighed his options. There was a pistol staring him right between the eyes, he was being held still by a guy whose face he still hadn't seen, he was in Lima Heights, and his life was being threatened.

"Fine, take the car. Keys are still in the ignition," Sam said, his voice peppered with anger. The first thug grinned, backing toward the vehicle and turning his attention away just long enough to check for the keys. Satisfied, he returned his attention to the situation at hand.

"And your wallet?"

"Back left pocket," Sam answered flatly. The first thug reached around and fished it from Sam's pocket, the second guy maintaining his grip on the blonde's arms. The thug opened the wallet and started to look through it.

"Ten… fifteen… twenty-four…. thirty-eight. Thirty-eight bucks? And a bunch of checks? That's it?" the guy said angrily. He took the cash out and stuffed it in his pocket and threw Sam's wallet at his feet. "Lame, man. Real lame…"

Sam noticed the thug suddenly paused, his eyes glancing down toward Sam's clenched fists. "Ah ha.  _That_  might make up for it though. Give me your ring, kid," the guy ordered.

"No!" Sam declared foolishly. Had it been any other piece of jewelry, he wouldn't have much cared, but this was the ring Rory had given him, and it meant a hell of a lot to him.

"No? you aren't in a position to be refusing an order," the thug holding onto him said, grumbling into Sam's ear. "Wanna rethink your situation?"

"Keep him still," the first guy said, easing the gun down and reaching toward Sam's hand. "Come on, just give it up and you won't get hurt, got it?"

Sam didn't 'got it', he wrenched his arm free and somehow managed to shove the guy holding on to him backward. He felt pain hit his face for the third time in his life – his right eye once again would be black for a few days. Out of instinct, he threw his hands up in front of himself again to block anymore incoming attacks, and before Sam could do much else, he felt an explosion in his groin. The first guy had kicked him right in the crotch, Sam dropping to all fours in pain, howling.

"See, if you just gave it up, you'd be-" The arrogant attacker stopped when he heard something. It sounded like a siren. "Oh fuck, the cops!"

"We better get out of here. Lucky night for you, kid," the second assailant said. Flashing red and blue lights were coming around the corner, sirens blaring. By the time Sam looked up from the ground, the two jerks had left, leaving Sam's wallet on the ground, but his car nowhere to be seen.

Sam tried to raise his arms up, but the pain in his groin was strong. It hurt to even try and lean back on his haunches, so he raised up one hand. "Don't shoot! I'm hurt!" he announced.

The nearest officer approached cautiously, another officer behind him, his gun trained on the boy on the ground. When the first officer reached the blonde, he could see he wasn't armed. The cop had on leather gloves and reached forward to pick up the wallet.

"Samuel Dwight Evans," the cop read. "Nineteen years old. You're in a dangerous part of town to just be walking around, kid." The officer turned to the other two behind him and nodded. "The kid's okay. Unarmed."

The police officers helped him up on his feet; much to his chagrin as standing up was very uncomfortable. One of them helped him to sit in the back of the police cruiser, his legs hanging out. He was bent over in pain, feeling like a bomb went off in his testicles.

"So what are you doing around this neighborhood? Delivering pizza on foot?" the officer asked. His badge read 'W. Martin'

"No. I mean yeah, delivering, but not on foot. I was in a car. They must have left in it," Sam explained. "I had the window down, trying to read the mailbox names and the guys came out of nowhere, with a gun."

Officer Martin scratched his chin. "What did these guys look like?" Sam described them the best he could considering he never got a good look at either face. Two Hispanic guys, dressed in dark jeans and leather jackets. One of them had a gun, the other he never saw a weapon, but Sam assumed he was armed. The officer started asking for as much detail as possible, annoying Sam slightly. It was dark out, and all he could focus on was the barrel of a gun in his face.

"This sounds like some local thugs we've been trying to nail down for a couple of weeks now. We're gonna need to take you in, get a statement and some information about your car," Officer Martin explained. "Do you have an emergency contact? If so, call and tell them to meet us at the Lima Heights precinct."

Sam did as he was told, pulling out his cell phone and calling home. Thankfully, his father answered. His father would have the coolest head, would keep calm and in control. His mother would simply flip out, and Rory—Rory would flip out, too. Maybe more than his own mother. When it came to Sam, Rory could be a little irrational with panic.

"Dad? Yeah, it's me, Sam." He paused, his father asking a question. "Uh, yeah, I'm okay I guess. Look, uh, I ran into some trouble in Lima Heights. I need you to meet me at the sheriff's office."

"What's wrong? Are you in jail? Is anybody hurt?" Mr. Evans asked, keeping an even tone, just like Sam had expected.

Sam sighed and explained what happened to his father – that he wasn't actually in jail, but needed to be questioned and have medical attention to make sure he wasn't severely injured.

"Alright son, I'll be there soon," his dad said. Before the older man could say anything else, however, Sam began begging— _pleading —_ with his father.

"Dad, don't let him… please, just… just keep him there, with mom. I don't want him to be upset. He doesn't even have to know you went anywhere. Just… please." His voice almost broke on the last word, but he managed to keep himself from breaking down completely: it would've made him look and sound even more stupid than he already felt for trying to tell his father to keep his  _boyfriend_  in the dark. He knew very well that when he didn't check back in with Rory, the Irishman would know something was up and get anxious.

"You let me worry about him, son. We'll be there soon," he said, and then hung up. Sam felt his stomach drop into his toes as he realized just what his father had said.

_We? If mom's staying there, then 'we' means him and Rory. Oh fuck, he's going to shit a whole brick house. God damn, my balls are killing me. That asshole must have been wearing steel toed boots or something._

His emergency contact called, Officer Martin instructed him to go ahead and sit back in the car and he would give him a ride to the station.

"We'll get you looked at too, for that eye, and your groin. Can't have your girlfriend flipping out because you can't have kids, right?" he joked, trying to ease the tension. Sam gave him a weak, almost sarcastic smile.  _Oh yeah, that's really what I want. Some doctor playing with my nuts while they feel like they just went through the big bang. And you better believe my BOY-friend won't be too happy about this either way._

-ooo-

Rory was listening to his iPod when Mr. Evans opened the door, rushing inside and closing it behind him. He looked up at the older man, pulling out his ear buds. "Hi, dad. Ye' seem a little-"

"Sorry, I knocked but you didn't hear me," Mr. Evans interrupted. "I need you to ride with me to the store. I need to pick up something and it's really heavy. You mind?"

Rory shrugged. "Sure thing. It's kind of late though, I 'ave school in the morning." Mr. Evans didn't seem all that concerned about that point, however.

"It's okay, it shouldn't take long. It's just real important I pick this up tonight." He waited impatiently as Rory turned off his music, pulled on a pair of jeans and his shoes and grabbed his wallet.

As soon as they backed out of the driveway and were on the road, Rory broke the tense silence. "So… what is it ye' have to pick up at this hour?"

Mr. Evans waited, trying to think of how to phrase it. He gave up and opted to go for humor, as he usually did. "Your boyfriend." Rory looked confused. "I need you to stay very calm, you got me?"

Rory nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on his host father, who was purposely focusing on the road and not looking over. "Is Sam okay? What's going on?" he asked anxiously. He started wringing his hands nervously, his heart and breathing speeding up.

"He's safe. We're going to the police station in Lima Heights. He was making a delivery and got robbed. The cops were nearby and got there before anything too bad happened, but they did steal the car and his cash."

The teenager was in shock. He stared at Mr. Evans, not wanting to believe him.  _Robbed? Lima Heights? Even I know that's a bad area. Dad says he's fine. He's at the police station. Calm down, calm down. No big deal._

"Rory? Rory, don't panic, okay? Everything is under control. Sam's fine. We'll be there in a minute, but you can't go in unless you promise me you'll keep your cool," Mr. Evans said evenly. "You promise?"

Rory slowly nodded his head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to be encroaching on the corners of his vision. "Yeah, I promise." A couple minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of the police station, a sickening feeling creeping into the teen's stomach.

-ooo-

Sam was tired, anxious to get to sleep and wake up in the morning, everything done and over with. His head ached, his face ached, and his crotch ached. He had gone into the bathroom and checked himself out. He wasn't bleeding or anything, and nothing looked too horrible. There wasn't any swelling. He really had no desire to get a nurse looking him over, but the officer was insistent. "For the report," the man had muttered in response to Sam's questions, giving an unsympathetic wave of his hand that the blonde was sure pointed towards a stack of file cabinets somewhere.  _Great. Now the entire police department can read about my aching balls._

Now he was sitting in the clinic, waiting for the nurse to come in. He was silently praying it would be a man. He hated female doctors. He was okay with being naked in front of women he wanted to get sexual with, but not a doctor. As a younger teen he was always nervous he might 'pop wood' in front of her and embarrass himself.

Thankfully, it was a male who came into the clinic. He seemed very clinical, albeit had no sense of bedside manner. He snapped on a pair of gloves, took a glance at the paperwork he was given, and made no facial expression whatsoever.

"Uh, hi," Sam said, trying to break the silence. "How you doing?"

"Fine," the man grunted. "Drop your pants." There were no pleasantries, no introduction (though his nametag read 'Jergens', like the hand sanitizer that sat on the same counter the man was utilizing). He simply ordered Sam to drop trou. He seemed disinterested in the examination at all, looking up from his papers to examine Sam's genitals.

"Ow, careful, please," Sam said through clenched teeth as the man squeezed. "That's a bit sore you know."

"I'm aware," the doctor snapped. "Turn your head and cough." Sam did so as the doctor felt for whatever he was looking for. He continued to examine Sam, and after a minute, Sam was beginning to wonder if he was some sort of sadist as he was applying more pressure than necessary.

"Pull up your pants," the doctor barked. "Sit down. Look straight ahead," he added, taking off his gloves and tossing them in the trash. He used his light to examine Sam's eye, his face hilariously serious. Sam bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing at the absurdly dull looking man.

"Hey, jeez! That hurts!" Sam hissed, the doctor poking around his bruising eye socket. The doctor paid no attention at all, finally turning back in the chair to scribble on the paperwork.

"You're fine. Take some Ibuprofen for pain," the doctor instructed. He stood up, said nothing else, and left.

"What an asshole," Sam whispered. The door flew back open suddenly, startling him.  _Oh shit did the doc hear me?_

A blur slipped through the door and the next thing he felt was arms wrapped around him, squeezing. "Oh me god, Sam! Are ye' okay! I was worried!" Rory cried.

"Air, issue," Sam choked. Both of them started to laugh as Rory realized he was squeezing his boyfriend so tight it was cutting off his breath.

"What happened, Sammy? What were ye' doing in Lima Heights?" the teen asked frantically. He was examining Sam's eye as he talked, gently caressing the bruise. He grabbed a paper towel and dampened it with cold water and started to dab.

Sam swallowed. "I was making my last delivery and got carjacked. They took the car, and the cash I had on me," he said, keeping his eyes closed as his boyfriend continued to press cold water against his eye.

"Why did they hurt ye' if ye' gave them what they wanted? Were they just wanting to rough ye' up?" Rory asked. He pulled his hand away and looked at Sam's face, staring at his eye as if sheer willpower would make the bruising to go away.

The older teen gave a soft smile, turning his head in shyness. "I wouldn't give them this," he said, holding out his hand, nodding toward his ring.

Rory's eyes widened upon seeing the reason his boyfriend was hurt. "Sam! Ye' should 'ave given it to them if they were gonna hurt ye'! It's not worth dying over!" he shrieked.

Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him close for a hug. "I wasn't going to let them take it. You gave it to me. It  _means_  something to me. A car doesn't, a wallet doesn't, but  _that_ does."

Rory pulled back. "But what if they killed ye'? Then ye' wouldn't be here at all," he frowned, poking his finger in the middle of Sam's chest.

"Ow, ease up. I'm a victim here," Sam joked, getting his boyfriend to crack a smile. "He didn't have the gun on me at the time." He grabbed Rory's arm again and pulled him into his lap, but quickly urged him back up when the pressure on his balls made him want to double over.

"What's wrong? Where are ye' hurt? I wanna help," Rory exclaimed quickly.

Sam grimaced, trying to force a smile but failing miserably. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. The asshole just kicked me in the nuts. Still a little sore."

Rory winced at the thought. He hadn't ever had a real solid kick in the crotch before, but just the thought of it made him want to cross his legs in defense. "Will ye' be okay? I mean, no damage, right?"

"Nah. I'll be fine. But uh… maybe later you can help me… you know, check them out, make sure they aren't still sore?" Sam said with a sly grin. Rory rolled his eyes.

"A victim of a crime and still horny! That's me Sammy for ye'," the teen giggled. Sam honestly wasn't horny, he just knew that it would make Rory laugh, and that's what he wanted right then. He had calmed himself down, but to stay that way, he needed Rory to be calm, too.

There was a knock at the door as Mr. Evans came in. Sam stood up and they hugged, Mr. Evans blinking away a tear before anyone could see. "I'm glad you're okay. I haven't told your mother yet."

His son gave him a grim expression. "Dad, they stole the car. I'm sorry," he said, hanging his head as if he had something to be ashamed of.

"That isn't important. The car was a piece of crap. We can get another piece of crap anywhere. We only got one Sam," his dad replied smugly. All three of them started to chuckle at his observation of the vehicle's value. Sam was never one to complain about things he had been given, but he had to admit that it was a piece of crap. He would never say that out loud, though. He was appreciative to have that piece of crap. Now, he had no piece of crap at all.

Sam started to ask him what to do about transportation, but his dad beat him to the punch. "We'll find you a new ride as soon as possible, son. Don't worry. In the meantime, we'll make do. Rory, you might have to get a ride home after school but one of us can drop you off in the morning."

"What about work? I can't work without a car," Sam pointed out.

"Oh that won't be an issue. In the morning, you're calling your boss and quitting, effective immediately," Mr. Evans declared confidently. "There will be no more delivering pizzas, let alone to Lima Heights."

"But dad," Sam protested. "I need to work. I need money. I can't sit around on my butt all day. How am I going to take care of-"

Mr. Evans put his hand for silence. "You won't be out of work forever. You're quitting, but you're finding something else as soon as you can. Something that doesn't involve going to the ghetto at night." Rory was standing at Sam's side, trying to hide a grin. He didn't want Sam to see that he was happy with the new arrangement.

"Come on. They got your statement and shit. We need to get home. It's late. Rory has school and you need to rest," their dad said. "Let's get you signed out and gone."

Rory latched onto Sam's hand, intertwining their fingers. He didn't want to let him go, even when he had to sign papers to leave. Fortunately, Sam was right handed, and it was his left that his boyfriend had claimed for himself.

On the ride home, Rory leaned into Sam's shoulder and fell asleep almost instantly. He hadn't realized how the stress had worn him out. Any other time, Sam would have carried him inside, but this time he ached too much. "Come on, baby. We're home. Let's get to bed."

"Okay, Sammy," the young teen replied, yawning. He crawled out of the car behind him and followed Sam inside, trailing in the larger boy's footsteps like a groggy puppy. Mrs. Evans was asleep, having thought her husband was simply staying up late, which was common for him to do. If she didn't wake up, he would hold off on telling her the details until morning.

"Goodnight, boys. Get some rest. Rory, I can write you a note if you want to go in late," Mr. Evans said. His words went unheard, however, as the boy had collapsed in bed before he even hit the pillows. "Damn, you'd think it was him who got mugged."

Sam smiled. "Thanks, dad. I'll take it from here. I'll see you in the morning and we can talk to mom about it." He hugged his father again, and then the man left to sneak into his own bed. Sam turned the light off and undressed, then gently pulled Rory's shoes and jeans off. He crawled into bed next to him and slid his arms up Rory's shirt, wrapping them around the boy as if for safety.

"Goodnight, baby. I love you," Sam whispered. He smiled and closed his eyes, happy that he was home, safe, with Rory. Missing thirty-eight bucks and the car was no big deal compared to the loss he would have felt had they taken his ring. The ring Rory gave him: it was something that meant a lot to him because it was just like the Irish boy's, and held special meaning – that he was taken as well.

"Good night, Sammy," came the soft, drowsy whisper. It was almost like Rory was speaking in his dream, muttering quietly, not even knowing he spoke in the real world. Sam stayed awake only a moment longer before sleep overtook him, the stress of the night taking its toll.

-ooo-

The clock read noon when Rory woke up the next day. He rolled over to find the bed empty, and the clock turning to 12:01. That's when it hit him that he was late for school. In a flash he was on his feet, throwing on clothes, brushing his hair, and trying to look halfway decent. He would have to forego a shower, but there was always time for deodorant and tooth brushing. He grabbed his messenger bag and darted past the kitchen when he heard Sam call out to him.

"Where are you going?" he asked with a chuckle. "Planning on walking?"

Rory stopped in his tracks and backed up into the kitchen. "Uh, right. No car. How am I going to get to school? I'm already late, I'll be in so much trouble!"

Mr. Evans stepped into the room, ruffling the boy's hair. "Ew. Severe bed-head," he said. "You aren't going out in public like that, are you?" he snickered at the teen, his hair still sticking out wildly despite his brushing, his clothes wrinkled and shoes untied.

"I 'ave to get to school! I'm way too late!"

"Calm down, son. I called in for you. I told them you had diarrhea," Mr. Evans replied. Rory screwed up his face with disgust. "Okay, not really, but I did tell them you weren't feeling well." Rory cut his eyes at him, but then smiled.

"Thanks. I guess I did need the sleep. It was after midnight when we got back, huh?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Try past one, almost two. Remember how long they made you wait in the lobby before they let you back to see me?"

Rory set his bag down and sat in the nearest chair. "At least now I can take a proper shower. I feel gross," he admitted. Sam wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah, your hair smells and you look like shit," Sam teased. Rory glared at him harshly. "Hey hey, just kidding, baby. You look great!" He leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, whispering in his ear. "Your clothes are kinda wrinkled though." He giggled as Rory smacked him on the arm.

Ignoring further joking from Sam, Rory turned his attention to Mr. Evans. "What's goin' to happen now that Sammy doesn't 'ave a car anymore?"

Mr. Evans cleared his throat. "Well, like I said before, you'll have to grab a ride home with a friend. Blaine drives, doesn't he?" Rory nodded in reply. "One of us will drop you off on the way to work. In the meantime, we're going to try and find Sam a replacement vehicle."

"I want a truck, but mom says I get whatever we can find for under five thousand bucks," Sam explained. "I can't complain, they aren't making me pay for it."

"You would be if it were wrecked, but it got stolen. That isn't your fault, and you need transportation to get around so you can find a job. One that doesn't require trips to the ghetto," his father added. "In fact, after you get looking sexy," he said, nodding at Rory, "We're going to go out looking for a vehicle."

Sam and Rory exchanged bewildered looks. "Dad, don't say sexy again. That's disturbing coming from a straight man, who also happens to be my father."

"Hey just trying to lighten the mood!"

"Just... no. Quit hitting on my boyfriend," Sam laughed. Weirded out, Rory got up and trudged to the bedroom to pick out new clothes before taking his shower.

Twenty minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom, refreshed and 'looking sexy'. When he entered the bedroom, Sam made catcalls at him and laughed. "There's my hot man. I knew he was hiding under that gunk."

"Be nice or I'll kick ye' in the bollocks!" Rory threatened playfully.

"Oh god, please no. I don't think they can take any more of that," Sam pleaded, not quite joking. "I think he much have had steel in those boots because it felt like they exploded."

Rory smiled at him and closed the distance between them. He very gently caressed Sam's crotch, breathing lightly into his ear as he whispered. "How are they now?"

Sam shivered just a little at the sensation. Despite the very slight ache still hanging on, the touch of Rory's fingers brushing over his jeans was enough to heal any pain he may have had. "Much better, now," he replied, moving his head to catch Rory's lips on his own.

"Rory, you take longer to get ready than my wife! Let's get a move on!" Mr. Evans called from the living room, cracking up at his own joke. The two teens smiled as they pulled apart, knowing they would have to save their hormones for later.

"Thanks a lot. Now I have to be in front of my dad with a hard on, trying to hide it," Sam complained. "You know you owe me later. I mean, after all, I'm super stressed and traumatized." He raised both eyebrows in a look of playfulness.

Rory rolled his eyes. "I'll think about it. Let's go before Dad gets impatient." Sam watched as he led the way out of the room, taking notice of his firm rear in his jeans. Yes, he would definitely be de-stressing with him later.

-ooo-

It was late afternoon before they found something on the used car lot that both appealed to Sam, and was in their price range. It was a 2005 Ford F-150, painted a glossy red. The previous owner had taken excellent care of it, and the mileage was reasonable for a truck seven years old. It ended up being fifty-five hundred, but the deal was too good to pass up. Mr. Evans never expected them to find something so quickly, either. He figured it would take a good week or so to hunt down the perfect deal, but as it turned out, they were lucky.

Over an hour of paperwork later, Sam and Rory jumped into the cab of the truck and were driving back home. Mr. Evans still had a couple of errands to run, including breaking the news to his wife about the cost of the truck.

That morning, while she was getting ready, Mr. Evans had disclosed to his wife exactly what had happened the night before. She was a little sour at first that he waited until morning to tell her, but she was over it by the time she left. Sam was at the breakfast table at the time, and she smothered him in affection.

The worst part of telling his mother was when his dad decided it was necessary to mention where he had gotten kicked, and she exclaimed frantically, "Oh honey, how are they now? Do they still ache? Oh it must be awful, did you put ice on them?"

Had Rory been awake and heard it, he would never let Sam live it down. Thankfully, his father rescued him between fits of convulsive laughter. "I think he's just fine. His eye might take a little longer, though."

Fortunately, nobody mentioned how it was the third black eye Sam had gotten in two years. One from Karofsky for defending Kurt, one from Azimio for defending Rory, and now this. He was lucky to still see out of it. At least Quinn had thought it looked hot, and Rory was a little turned on by it, too. It made his boyfriend look badass. Tough and rugged.

"Can we get something to eat before we go home?" Rory asked, sounding as cute as possible, smiling and staring at Sam with his big blue eyes.

"I don't have any cash with me, those bastards took it all," Sam reminded him.

"They didn't steal mine. It's me treat, and it's just fast food. It won't break me," Rory replied smugly. Sam gave in and they went to the deli to get subs. It was only slightly healthier than greasy fast food burgers and over salted French fries. They took it home, sitting on the bed and eating like a picnic (with the obvious exception that there was a TV in front of them).

Later that night, Rory eased all of Sam's stresses, testing the functionality of his manhood 'just to make sure it all still worked' and then fell asleep. Sam sat up in bed, watching TV and stroking the top of Rory's head, running his fingers through the brunette's soft locks. Tomorrow was the first day he was going to work on finding a job, but it would all have to be online research until his eye healed up. Showing up to an office with a black eye was not the way to make an impression.

-ooo-

Thursday, the glee club finally decided on singing 'Rock Star' by NERD. It was from 2002, but it was lively and showcased Artie's raps, Blaine and Rory's lower vocals, and Tina and Sugar's lively background vocals. They practiced all afternoon, going with a somewhat looser feel for the entire performance. Sugar promised to secure some special effects but wouldn't specify what kind. It would just be a 'surprise'. That was unnerving in itself, never mind the thought of a potentially hostile crowd.

-ooo-

Sam picked Rory up after glee club, proudly displaying his new truck. It may not have been brand new, but it may as well have been. He was beaming with pride as the club members trickled out of the door, greeting him with casual conversation and inquiries on the new truck (and the black eye).

When they got home, Sam busied himself with a video game, while Rory practiced his choreography. He still had trouble with his dancing, despite the work he had put in with Mike and Blaine. His rhythm was off, and he often found himself mixing up his feet. Thankfully, this particular performance would mostly be stomping, clapping, and only a small bit of actual dancing around.

"Quit laughing, Sam! Ye'r getting as bad as Seamus, making fun!" Rory protested as Sam bit his lips, trying to hold in a laugh as Rory twisted up his legs and tripped. Sam gulped down another laugh and returned his attention to the game. "Ye' could help me a little, ye' know! Ye' know I'm not any good at this!" he added, flustered.

Sam grinned, tossed the controller aside and got up. "Come here," he said, taking Rory's hand. He placed him exactly how he wanted and then got behind him, putting his hand on the boy's hips. "Okay, just follow how my hands move you. Loosen up, let me guide you."

Rory started the music again and as instructed, let Sam's hands guide him through the motions. It seemed so much easier when Sam helped him. Maybe it was the comfort of him being right there with him, the comfort of his touch. Maybe it was because with Sam guiding him, he really didn't have to think about it, he just moved where he was urged.

"Okay, now try it by yourself," Sam said, standing back. He reset the song and watched as Rory tried the moves again, this time a little better than before. "One more time with me," Sam said, taking his hips again. This time when he did it on his own, he looked and felt much more relaxed.

"Now one more," Sam said, Rory unable to see the mischievous grin on his lips. He pulled Rory back into him, grabbed his hip with one hand, and pushed his back until he was bent over in a prone position. He ground his crotch into Rory's rear, his erection pressing into his jeans.

"Seriously, Sammy? Right now?" Rory said, standing up and pulling away, annoyed. "What's with ye' lately, anyway? Ye'r so horny all the time." Despite his annoyance, he was genuinely toying with him about the horniness.

Sam hung his head in feigned shame. "I dunno. I guess just all the stress, and being bored, and stuff. And the fact that you're hot, too. Yeah, that's the real reason. I look at you and you get me all hot and bothered," he admitted, his cheeks tinting a bright pink.

"Sammy Evans are ye' blushing?" Rory teased. Sam nodded. "That's so cute. Just because I'm not in the mood now doesn't mean I won't be later," he trailed off, raising an eyebrow. That seemed to pacify the older teen as he smiled and returned to his game, watching his boyfriend between matches.

Later that evening, Rory kept good to his word and once again made sure that Sam was sated, urging Sam to take him, leaving the blonde feeling just a little sore—but happy—as they fell asleep.

-ooo-

The performance in the quad on Friday was amazing. Sugar's father had commissioned confetti cannons, colored strobe lights (thankfully it was overcast, so the lighting didn't go to waste), a live band, and costumes. For only five of them, they looked outstanding, and definitely got the crowd's attention.

It was lunchtime when they performed, along the rows of steps on the north side of the quad outside. They were dressed similar to how they dressed in their Ke$ha performance – jeans, various punked out shirts and tops, funky hats, and hair extensions on the girls. The most important thing was that they actually looked like they were having fun, and like being in glee was cool.

Whether or not the extravagant display had an effect on recruiting was yet to be seen.

-ooo-

Rory laid on the bed, watching a recording of the recent football game in Ireland, barely able to keep his eyes open. Sam, however, was sitting next to him, rubbing his back and caressing his butt. When he slipped his hand up Rory's shorts to make actual contact, the teen rolled over, forcing Sam's hand away.

"Not tonight, Sammy," Rory said, yawning. "I'm too tired."

Sam gave him a sly grin. "Come on, you're never too tired for me, right?" He was trying the guilt thing again.

"Sam, I can't I'm tired, and I still ache from last night," Rory complained. "We've had sex every night this week. I hurt."

Sam ran the back of his hand across his boyfriend's face. "Even if I get you in the mood? All riled up and into it?" He ran his hand over Rory's chest and down to the waistband of his shorts. The boy grabbed his wrist, however, and pulled it to his lips, kissing his hand.

"Please, Sam. Really. Ye' know ye'r big, I can only handle but so much. I need a break," Rory explained, giving him a pitiful look. "I'm worn out. I'm not horny in the least. What I really want to do right now is lay in ye'r arms and fall asleep, but I feel like ye' might try and get me going."

The blonde looked hurt. "No, I won't. I'm sorry, baby. I really am. I'm just going crazy and it seems like sex is easing my anxiety."

"Well ye' eased it an awful lot last night. I feel like ye' tore me right open," the Irishman admitted, blushing. "I mean, I liked it, but it hurts."

Sam leaned back against the headboard. "Come on, snuggle with me. I promise I won't get fresh," he said, poking his bottom lip out in a pout. Rory got up and shut off the light, then got back into bed, laying back in Sam's arms. As promised, Sam didn't try to get him aroused. Instead, he just brushed his fingertips up and down Rory's arms, nuzzling his chin in the boy's hair. As much as he wanted to ravage him, it was so much more important that he respect his desire.

Before the end of the game, Rory fell asleep in Sam's arms. He didn't find out the victor until he read it on the internet the next morning, Sam standing behind him rubbing his shoulders.

-ooo-

The weekend passed by far too quickly, Monday creeping up before they knew it. Sam woke up with Rory, took him to school, and then returned to his job hunt. So far, he wasn't having much luck. Over the weekend, Rory helped him type up a résumé, except there was next to nothing to put on it. Aside from listing his glee club achievements, football achievements, and a few random volunteer jobs over the years, plus the pizza delivery job, his résumé looked pretty pathetic. Rory did his best to cheer him up, but there were no doubts that Sam had a long way to go. Luckily, his eye was healing up pretty fast, so he could start in-person inquiries before week's end.

-ooo-

Before Rory went into the locker room, Coach Beiste stopped him, asking him to come to her office after his shower and dress out. Curious if he was in trouble, he paid little attention to the couple of comments in the locker room. Only when someone came up to him and asked him a direct question did he snap out of his thoughts.

"Is it true?" a tall and lanky redheaded kid asked, his glasses far too big for his face. Rory couldn't remember the kid's name, he just remembered the kid was a sophomore, someone he didn't know outside of gym, but he looked harmless.

"Is what true?" Rory replied, raising an eyebrow.

The boy looked around as if worried someone may overhear him. "Is it true that… you know… you're dating that guy… the one who drives the shiny red truck?"

Rory cracked a smile. Even with Sam absent from the school, gossip about him still got around. "Yes. We've been together almost a year now. His name's Sam."

"That's cool," the kid said, then hurried off to his locker further down the aisle. Rory assumed he had to be gay, probably not ready to come out. He seemed shy, cautious, but trusting of Rory, taking the rumors as truth. It made him smile, hoping that perhaps the kid would find comfort in seeing an openly gay guy other than just Blaine. Nothing was wrong with Blaine, of course, but seeing more than one was always a good thing.

After showering and changing back to his normal clothes, he reported to Beiste's office. He knocked on her door, slightly nervous as to why he was summoned here. He heard her voice from the other side of the door inviting him in.

"Have a seat, Flanagan," she said kindly. The way she smiled at him put him at ease, made him realize he wasn't in any kind of trouble. The coach sat on the corner of her desk, looking at him.

"What's going on, coach?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute," the bulky woman answered, her tone reminding him of the tone she had back when she had told him and Sam about her friend from childhood.

"How have things been this past week?"

The teen shrugged. "Been okay, I guess. The usual start of the year stuff. Nothing special. Glee club started back. That's the biggest excitement for me."

The coach smiled at the mention of the glee club. She had become rather fond of the club of misfits over the years she had been there. "There's only five of you now, right?" He nodded in reply. "Evans isn't here anymore. Thankfully, neither is Azimio. I have faith that you should make it through the year without much trouble."

"I hope so. I still have me glee friends, though. We look out for each other," Rory assured her.

"I just want you to know, Flanagan, that I'm here for you if you need someone to talk to. If anyone starts giving you a hard time, I want to know about it. I won't stand for bullying in the school, and Coach Sylvester and I are working toward a zero tolerance stand on that. The only way we can accomplish that is if our students tell us where the problems are, so we can address them," the coach explained.

"Coach Sylvester? Seriously?" he asked, wondering if he heard her correctly.

Beiste chuckled. "Yeah, believe it or not. You get my drift though. Our students should feel safe in this school, and we need to know who's making trouble. I don't want you to be a snitch, but I want you to be aware you have people to back you up."

"Thanks, coach. That's really amazing of ye' and Coach Sylvester."

"We'll see how it goes. Watch out for yourself, kid, and you and your friends – you watch out for each other," Beiste ordered. "Now get on out of here and get to class."

Rory smiled at her and left the office, appreciative of the coach's concern. It was weird that the Cheerios Coach was going to be backing her up, but the move toward zero tolerance was a good one. Even if he made it through the next two years with little incident, that didn't mean that other kids would have it so easy. If there was someone watching out for them, making sure they were safe, then more kids would feel comfortable with themselves. Kids like the red-head with the oversized glasses.

-ooo-

Sam seemed rather happy when he picked Rory up compared to the rather mellow demeanor he had as of late. That must mean good news.

"I found something that seems promising today," Sam began. "I found it on the internet, and they just posted the ad today."

Rory smiled at him. "What's the job?" he asked, taking Sam's free hand and giving it a squeeze.

"It's at a radio station."

"A radio station? Ye'r gonna be on the radio, like a DJ?" the teen asked excitedly. "Ye' have such a wonderful voice, e'eryone will love it!"

Sam laughed. "No, no, not a DJ. Not yet anyway. It's called a personal assistant. I called the manager today and asked what exactly that meant. It's kind of a… oh how did he explain it?" Sam scrunched up his face in deep thought. "A person who goes around doing all the stuff that needs to be done that nobody else has time to do. I think that translates to doing all the shit jobs, but it's somewhere to start."

"Ye' seem excited about it. It can't be bad then. When do ye' start?"

Sam laughed again. "I don't have it yet. I have to go in for an interview, and then they figure out if they want me or not. I doubt I'll know anything at all until Friday at the earliest."

"When is ye'r interview?" The Irishman was becoming more excited for his boyfriend. It sounded like a fun job, even if it was 'shit jobs': it was in the music industry, and it was a place to start. He knew Sam wanted to get involved with music somehow, and this may very well be his chance.

"Tomorrow. My eye is pretty much cleared up now, so I should be fine. I'm really nervous though," Sam admitted. "I've never been for an interview before. I didn't exactly need one for pizza delivery."

Rory grinned. "Me Sammy is growin' up!" He poked playfully at the larger boy's side, eliciting giggles from the blonde.

"Will you help me, though?"

"Help ye'? With what?"

Sam grinned. "Uhm, will you help me pick out something to wear. I want to look my very best, and you're pretty good at that."

Rory blushed. "Ye' do just fine on ye'r own, Sammy. Ye' don't need me help."

Sam stuck out his tongue. "Subtleties are lost on you. I just want you to, I dunno, be involved with it. Kind of like support or something."

The Irish boy hung his head. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset ye'."

"You didn't upset me. I want you to help me though. If you pick out a nice outfit, I know I won't look stupid. I know I'll ace the interview, because my boyfriend picking out my suit is good luck" Sam explained.

"Is it really?"

"No, but it sounded good. And maybe it  _is_  good luck. I mean, you're Irish, maybe your Irish touch will rub off on my clothes and make it happen," Sam suggested.

Rory grinned at him. "Okay, I'll help ye'. But no naughty time. I know once ye' get down to ye'r underwear ye' get rowdy, and I just can't handle ye' today."

Sam pretended to pout. "But… but you're so hot… and… and you make me so horny."

The younger teen rolled his eyes. "I need a break. We've done it almost every night the past couple of weeks. I hurt. I'm tired."

"Does it really hurt that much?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah. Ye'r big, Sam. It feels good, but ye' leave me aching and sore. I love it, but I need a break."

"Okayyyyy," Sam said, still pouting.

"What's up with ye' lately? I've never seen ye' so horny all the time. Are ye' okay?" the teen asked, genuinely concerned.

Sam shook his head. "I'm fine. I just… I dunno, I'm in a slump and the only thing that seems to make me happy is being with you, and I get so horny thinking of you. I just want to ravage you. I'm sorry, I know it's overkill."

Rory gave him a half smile. "Just let me take a break tonight, okay? I love ye'r big dick, I love giving ye' pleasure, but take it easy on a lad."

They both laughed, realizing that Sam really was being a little ridiculous. He was in a slump, sure, but he now had a chance to get out of it, and he needed to focus and stop thinking with his dick.

-ooo-

The big glee club performance had been a hit, but it only convinced four people to show up for the next meeting, one of which was the redheaded kid who had asked Rory if he was dating Sam. The other three were female, people he had never seen before. They all seemed friendly but nervous about their 'auditions'. It was glee club policy that anyone who tried out would get in, but it was still unnerving to be in front of a bunch of strangers and sing.

The young boy looked as if he were going to pass out, but Rory gave him a friendly, encouraging smile, and the boy seemed to feel better. Rory was still convinced he must be gay since he had so secretly asked about his relationship with Sam, but Rory wouldn't broach the subject until the boy came out to him. Of course he could just be reading too much into it, seeing a shy boy who happened to like to sing and was looking for some way to start a conversation with a glee club member to make some sort of ally.

"Uh, hi," the kid said meekly. "I'm Mitchell. I'll be singing… I'll be singing  _Take a Picture_  by Filter." Rory gave him another smile, waiting anxiously to hear him sing. He had trouble getting started, his nerves getting the better of him, but once Mitchell got over the initial anxiety, he launched into a wonderful and soothing version of the song.

"Great job," Rory whispered to him as he sat back down. Mitchell blushed at the compliment and quietly thanked him, pushing his oversized glasses further up on his nose. They slid right back down as he stared at his feet.

The three girls sang as a trio, harmonizing beautifully to Britney Spears. They were sophomores, and sisters by marriage whose names were Ariel, Belle, and Aurora. It was disgustingly obvious that their mother had a slight obsession with Disney movies and it was all Rory could do not to laugh as they introduced themselves.

At least that brought the grand total of glee club members to nine. They only needed three more to qualify, so at least things were heading in the right direction.

-ooo-

Rory hopped into Sam's truck (or  _their_  truck, as Sam insisted it was - 'What's mine is yours' he had said, despite the fact that Rory had no license, or even knew how to drive) anxious to hear how the interview went. The night before, he had selected a nice suit from the closet for Sam to wear, and then first thing that morning he made sure he was dressed to the nines, complete with perfectly combed and gelled hair. Sam was more than capable of doing it all himself, as he admitted, but having Rory do it all for him made him happy; it was his 'luck o' the Irish, as Sam called it.

"Well?" the teen urged. "How did it go? Are ye' hired?" Rory asked hurriedly.

Sam laughed. "Calm down, calm down. It went great. I have no idea if I got it yet, they said they would call by Friday. But it went really good. They seemed really interested in my musical background and said if I did get the job, there was plenty I could bring to the table."

Rory leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm so proud of ye', Sammy! Ye'r first interview and it went so well!" He actually seemed more excited about it than Sam, which was saying a lot since Sam was pretty amped about it himself. The next few days were going to be torture while he awaited the phone call to find out.

-ooo-

Sam had been a basket case all day Friday. He was going to get a phone call either way, but it was the waiting: knowing it was coming but not when. He kept his cell phone turned on to the loudest ring volume, kept pacing his room, trying to find something to do to occupy himself in the meantime. He was too antsy to watch a movie, couldn't stay still long enough to play a video game. There was no chance in hell of taking a nap, so he finally resorted to cleaning up the room. There were too many clothes scattered about, game cases and accessories in a heap in front of the TV stand, Rory's school books and notebooks that he didn't need for the day piled up all over the desk. Stacks of DVDs littered the floor beneath their designated rack. It looked like a typical boy's bedroom.

He had his arms full of Rory's textbooks when his cell phone rang. He instantly dropped them on the floor, the physics book landing on the top of his foot. Sam didn't even register the pain of the heavy book squishing his toes as he snagged up the phone. He took a deep breath and pushed the button.

"Hello? Yes, this is Sam Evans..."

-ooo-

Rory trudged out of the school, sighing. It had been a long day. Too much classwork and an exhausting gym class session, never mind the horrible excuse for a lunch the cafeteria provided—particularly for a Friday. His eyes did light up, however, when he saw Sam waiting for him in the parking lot, smiling.

Sam had his arms crossed over his chest, covering whatever it was on his shirt. When Rory got close enough for a hug, he opened his arms to embrace him. That's when the younger teen noticed what was printed on the shirt.

"How do you like my new shirt?" Sam asked, grinning. Rory claimed his hug first, then stepped back and took a better look.

"Eighty-eight point nine FM. WJJC Classic Rock," Rory read aloud. A wide grin formed on his face, his eyes looking up from the shirt to Sam's face. "Ye'... ye' got the job?" he asked excitedly.

Sam nodded, his eyes twinkling. "You are now looking at the newest personal assistant at 88.9 WJJC!" he answered. Rory threw his arms around him and kissed him, squeezing him so tight Sam thought he might need air.

"I'm so proud of ye' Sam! I knew it! I knew ye' would get it! We 'ave to celebrate right away!" Rory cried, hugging him again.

Sam laughed, eating up the enthusiasm like candy. "Guess how much they're paying me!"

"But that's none of me business, Sam," Rory replied sternly.

"Sure it is. Twelve-fifty and hour. Plus benefits," Sam replied. "You can be so silly sometimes, don't you know by now, everything that's mine is yours, too, including the money I make."

"Aww don't say that, Sam. That money is ye'rs. I 'aven't earned it," Rory argued.

Sam gave him a serious look. "It's  _ours_ , Rory. Everything we make is  _ours_. That's part of being a couple - we share everything."

Rory shrugged. It made sense, to share everything, but he still felt guilty. "That isn't fair though. I'm not contributing anything. I can't work. Why should ye' pay for e'erything?"

Sam scratched his head. This had become entirely too much thinking for driving down the road. "Hmm... Your parents send you money, don't they?"

"About two hundred a month on me bank account. They send ye'r mum and dad about the same for living expenses," Rory answered, starting to see where Sam was going with this.

"Well, if it bothers you that much, you can put in your two hundred," Sam suggested. "Oh yeah, in that folder on the dash, there's a form you need to sign."

"A form? For what?" the teen asked, opening the folder.

Sam grinned. "Sign it, please. Then I'll tell you." Rory gave him a bewildered look, but trusting Sam and not understanding that he should always read something before he signed it, he fished a pen from his bag and scribbled his signature on it. Sam snatched it from him and set it in the side pocket of his seat before Rory could inspect it closer.

"What did I just sign, Sam?"

"A form for joint ownership on my bank account," Sam said casually. "We're gonna go drop it off on the way home so you can get your debit card."

Rory looked at him like he was insane. "Sam! Ye' can't do that! Ye' can't put me on ye'r bank account! That's-"

" _Our_ account, that's what it is," Sam interrupted with a smug grin. He could see his boyfriend about to protest, so he put his finger over the boy's lips. "You can put your money in there and then use your card when you need some."

"But how will I know how much I 'ave left? So I don't spend ye'rs," Rory asked. Sam rolled his eyes playfully.

"You don't worry about that, you just look at how much is in there altogether. You don't need to keep track of how much you put it or take out, just leave enough for us to do stuff with," Sam explained.

Rory still didn't like the idea of Sam giving him access to all this money, but he seemed so excited about it. On the other hand, Sam was worried he might have offended him, implying that he didn't have enough money on his own and would  _need_  Sam to support him. He hoped that maybe Rory would become more excited about it once they got to the bank and got his debit card. It was a pretty major show of trust, letting the boy have access to all of his money, but if Rory was going to be his boyfriend, and they were someday going to take it even further, these kinds of things would need to be taken care of anyway.

An hour later, they were leaving the bank, Rory clutching his new debit card and some basic information about checking accounts. "I've never had a bank account before. Mam and pap just put money on me credit card so they can keep track of what I spend."

"We'll, you're too old for that. They don't need to see you order a membership to when they pull up the bill. When you get your money you can advance it off your card, put it in with mine, and then spend what you need to," Sam said.

"Thank ye', Sammy. It means a lot that ye' trust me so much. I promise I won't spend a lot." He hugged his boyfriend and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank ye' so much."

Sam smiled and hugged him back. "I'm happy to do it. But you gotta do me one little favor."

"Anything," the teen replied. There wasn't much that he wasn't willing to do for Sam, as long as it wasn't against his morals.

"Balance the checkbook," Sam said, laughing. "If you leave it up to me, we'll be broke in no time because I am terrible with numbers and keeping up with that stuff. I never had enough money before to worry about it."

Rory smiled at him. "Sure thing. I'll keep it just perfect for ye'."

"I knew I could count on you." Sam ruffled the boy's hair and kissed him on the forehead, hearing his stomach rumble. "Okay, I'm a wee bit hungry I think."

"Just a wee bit. Shall we be goin' to get some food, me lad?" Rory replied jokingly, forcing his accent stronger than normal. They both burst out laughing.

"Why don't we be goin' to Breadstix, and then we can go home and eat some Lucky Charms until we find the pot o' gold at the end o' the rainbow," Sam joked. Rory looked at him like he was bonkers. "Or not…"

"Ye' leave the leprechaun talk to me, okay, Sam? If ye'r good, I may just let ye' into  _me_  pot o' gold."

Sam's eyes lit up. "That sounds promising!" Rory smirked, teasingly.

"Ye'll just find out later. Just ye' keep ye'r eye on the rainbow, make sure ye' catch the leprechaun, and then he has to let you in."

They stopped at BreadstiX, eating a hearty meal then went home to spend the rest of the evening playing video games. Later that night, Rory let Sam into his pot of gold. Twice.

 


	31. Episode 31: The Fall of the Glee Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Phew, this chapter got some major revisions thanks to Mr. Ragnarok. Sometimes I think he saves me from myself. ^_^ I bet none of you thought we would see the day the events in this chapter actually took place, but as the title of the episode suggests, things look like they may be teetering on the edge. Tomorrow night is the Glee Season 3 Finale. ;_; Nooooooo.  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Sam was held up in Lima Heights by some thugs, and aside from some ball-trauma and a stolen car, he came out okay. His parents got him a new used truck for his troubles, and urged him to get a job. He applied for work at a radio station and now he might have some good connections for a career in music, but he will have to wait and see on that one. He surprised Rory by trusting him with access to all of his money, trying to instill in him the level of trust and dedication he has in him, and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 31: The Fall of the Glee Club**

Rory walked into the locker room, exhausted from a rigorous session of basketball with Sam. He had been practicing quite a bit, determined to not look like an ass in gym class. He opened his locker and pulled out a towel, patting the sweat off of his face.

A loud 'click' resonated throughout the tiled room, causing the young man to jump slightly. Sam was supposed to be putting away the basketball and other gym equipment they had been using. He shouldn't be back in the locker room yet, so that noise couldn't possibly have been him turning the latch on the door.

"Sam?" Rory called out. No answer. "Sam?" he called again, to no avail: silence greeted his ears, except for—except for a shuffling sound that had started seemingly from somewhere far off, probably near the back of the room; the Irishman could've sworn it sounded like labored, heavy footsteps that couldn't possibly have been his boyfriend's.

"Hello? Is someone there?" There was no verbal response to his query, but the shuffling sound started getting louder—closer?—in response to his voice.

"Quit playing around, this isn't funny," he practically yelled, trying to make his voice sound as stern as possible. "Samuel Evans if this is ye'r idea of a joke, it's not funny!" he scolded.

Walking to the end of the row of lockers, Rory peered around the corner into the aisle. Nothing. The shuffling was still getting louder. He slowly craned his neck until he was looking into the adjoining row of lockers. Still nothing. Repeating this process with the next row and the row after that, he still came up empty-handed. There was now no doubt in his mind: the sound was a pair of footsteps, scraping across the ground, moving towards him slowly, lazily—predatorily. With his eyes wide and his heartbeat thudding in his ears—but not louder,  _never_  louder, than the sound—he began running from row to row, checking every single inch of space: all of it empty.  _Where the Hell is that noise coming from?_

"Whoever ye' are, stop playin' around. Ye'r starting to get on me nerves," he demanded. There was still no response, just the same shuffling feet. Except… it was getting louder. Louder than it had before. He started to panic, his heart pounding, his breaths coming faster and faster as he quickened his pace back toward his locker from the row he had stopped at. He turned the corner and ran headfirst into something: something large, black, red, and  _very_  solid.

"A-Azimio? What are ye' doing here?" Rory asked nervously. His heart raced faster, his lungs felt shallow; he could feel new sweat dripping down his face. "Ye'r supposed to be in that special school."

The hulking boy grinned, the expression not reaching his hate-filled eyes. "Obviously I got out, faggot."

Rory backed up toward the end of the row, toward the door. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm sorry about what happened, but-" His voice was cut off when a bulky black hand grabbed his throat, spun him bodily in a circle, and shoved him back into the lockers.

"You don't want trouble?  _You_  don't want trouble? Sorry, but looks like trouble found  _you_ ," the stench of unwashed teeth bathed his face as the older boy spoke.

"Sam…" Rory croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Your little pussy boy can't save you. Not this time. Not ever again," Azimio barked. "I took care of him just fine." That was when Rory noticed Azimio's other hand. In it was a knife, covered in blood. The knife was much bigger than the one Azimio had eight months ago: it was like one of the knives Michael Meyers used in the  _Halloween_  movies. He brought the knife forward, putting the edge of the blade directly in front of Rory's face.

"You know whose blood this is, don't you?" Azimio taunted. He pulled the blade close to his own face and licked the blood off of it. Rory grimaced the best he could with the man's hand still wrapped tightly around his throat. "Your sweet little protector. I took him down easy, you know."

Utter horror washed through Rory. Tears started to drip down his cheeks, falling onto Azimio's hand. "What did ye' do to him?" he choked, his words broken.

The bully smiled, still brandishing the blade between them. He drew the sharp edge down the side of Rory's face in a thin line, fire ripping through his cheek as a light cut formed there. "I just gave him what you queers like. Right up the backside. He was bent over, so I just grabbed him and stuck this blade here, I shoved it right into his back. Right into his spine. Did you know you can hear bones cracking over the sound of a scream?"

Rory felt light headed. His throat was so dry he could hardly even move his tongue. His breaths came in shallow gasps.  _No! Sam! No, not him! He can't be…. Oh god, no…"_  his mind raced. All he could hear was a ringing in his ears, but he could see Azimio's mouth moving, words coming out through his evil grin. The next thing he felt was an explosion of cold pain in his chest as the blade was pushed right into his heart.

Rory screamed at the top of his lungs, sitting upright and gasping for air. He felt light headed, and there was a stabbing pain in his chest; he felt his hand rising against his will to press on it. Then there was bright light, and sound started to return to him. The door had slammed open, two small blurs dashing through and stopping short. Behind them came two bigger figures, one ushering the smaller ones away while the other carefully entered the room.

There was a harsh cracking sound as a pair of fingers snapped repeatedly in front of him. He jumped out of his daze, suddenly realizing exactly where he was: his bedroom. The strong arms he felt suddenly wrapped around him were Sam's. The figure in front of him was Mr. Evans. Everything shifted into focus and he heard everything around him again.

"Rory! Rory! Snap out of it!" Sam was shouting, shaking him by the shoulders. Rory shook his head and closed his eyes, leaning his head back in relief. He lowered his hand from his chest. He wasn't bleeding. There was no knife. There was no Azimio. Sam was right there with him. He was safe in his bedroom.

Rory felt himself being hugged, Sam saying something, his words muffled because his mouth was pushed against the boy's head.

"Sam… Sam. Sam…" Rory said the blonde's name several more times, relishing in the sound. "Ye'r okay."

"Why wouldn't I be? What's wrong?" Sam replied, pulling back to look his boyfriend in the eyes. "Why wouldn't I be safe?"

Rory bit his bottom lip and turned his head, looking at the older boy out of the corner of his eye. "I just… nightmare."

"A nightmare? About what, son?" Mr. Evans asked, reminding them both that he was present.

The Irishman shook his head. "Nevermind. It's… just nevermind." He was getting his breathing under control, but was still feeling a little off-kilter—his voice still carried a slight waver to it that he couldn't seem to get under control. "E'erybody's okay. Just… just a nightmare."

Mr. Evans and Sam exchanged looks. Both of them had a feeling they knew what happened in the nightmare, or—at the very least—who was involved.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. But you're soaked," Mr. Evans stated, caressing the side of Rory's face in a protective, fatherly manner. "You need to change into fresh clothes."

"Maybe we should get you a shower, first. It might wash away whatever you were dreaming about," Sam suggested, trying to urge the boy out of the bed with his corny sense of humor.

Mr. Evans completely ignored the fact that his 'son' had on a pair of white boxer-briefs that were so soaked he could see right through them as well as the lame joke his eldest attempted, and helped Sam get the brunette on his feet. "Just stand a second, get your head right."

Wanting to save his dignity, Sam yanked the sheet from the bed and covered his boyfriend with it. "Come on, let's go to the bathroom. Get you showered off and freshened up."

"I'll change these sheets for you," Mr. Evans offered. They were soaked in sweat.

"Thanks, dad," Sam said, leading the weary Irishman to the bathroom. When they entered, he flipped on the lights and fan, dropped the sheet, and sat on the toilet lid, pulling Rory into his lap. He wrapped his arms around the smaller boy again, holding him close.

"I know what you were dreaming about. It was Azimio, wasn't it?" Sam verified, whispering in his ear as if trying to keep anyone else from hearing, even over the sound of the vent.

Rory nodded his head slowly. "He k-… He…" his voice started to break at the very thought of what he'd seen; clearing his throat and trying to take strength from the arms wrapped around him, he forced the words out around the lump forming in his throat. "He killed ye', and then he killed me. It was… sick, and brutal, and…" he shuddered into Sam's embrace.

Sam pulled Rory's head to his chest and gently stroked the younger boy's dark locks. "Okay, no more, no more. It's not real. I'm safe. You're safe. Everybody's safe. It was just a nightmare,  _everything_  is okay," Sam soothed him. "We should try to get you in the shower. You're soaked with sweat and all hot."

Rory stood up while Sam reached behind the curtain and twisted the knob. The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom. "Come on, baby. Let's get you cleaned off." He pulled down the boy's underwear and ushered him into the shower.

"Shit!" Rory exclaimed as soon as the frigid stream hit his body. "That's cold!"

Sam stifled a laugh. "It'll cool you down. Now come on, get under the spray."

Rory pursed his lips and glared at his boyfriend, his face having all the ferocity of a box of kittens. Sam kissed his forehead and then pulled the curtain to keep him inside. Rory started to mutter obscenities as he let the cold water rush over him from head to toe, rinsing the sweat from his body.

"Okay now, enough with the language. You sound like Puck," Sam teased, eliciting a chuckle from his shivering boyfriend. He poked his head through the curtain and smiled. "I thought I heard a giggle. Finish getting freshened up and then we'll dry you off."

"I'm hurrying!" Rory snapped. Something about that struck him as funny and he couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little snippy in freezing water." He finished up and turned off the water, hugging himself as the goosebumps settled in.

"Stop teasing! Give me the towel!" Rory demanded as Sam taunted him, waving it in front of his shivering body.

Sam finally relented and opened his arms, the towel in his hands, and wrapped the boy in it, hugging him. "Feel any better?"

Rory half-smiled and nodded. "Yeah, some."

Realizing he hadn't brought anything else for him to wear, he kept the teen wrapped up in the towel as he escorted him back to their room. His dad was just finishing up changing the sheets when they came in.

"Hey, son, how're you doing now?" the man asked of his adopted son.

"A little better. Thank ye'. I'm sorry I woke e'eryone," the boy apologized.

Mr. Evans put a comforting hand on Rory's shoulder. "It's okay. You can't help it. Nightmares happen. Crawl back into bed and go back to sleep. Sam will keep you safe; odds are, you won't dream about that stuff anymore," he said, hoping it were true despite having heard otherwise from his youngest child. "Oh, by the way, the cow's out of the barn."

Rory let confusion wash over him. "Huh? Cow? Where?"

Mr. Evans nodded downward, alerting the teen to the half open towel. Rory quickly covered himself, his face reddening. " _That_  cow. I'm sorry. A little out o' it and all."

The man laughed heartily. "Son, I've caught you in the buff almost as much as my own kids when they were little. You ain't got nothing I haven't seen before." Rory was still pink, not feeling any less embarrassed. He scurried over to the dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and pulled them on under the towel.

'Come on, let's get to bed before my dad sees anything else he isn't supposed to," Sam teased as Rory sent him a dirty look. As instructed, the younger teen crawled under the sheets and lay back on the pillow. Sam wrapped his arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "It's gonna be okay. No more bad dreams. I forbid it."

Rory smiled and placed his hands over Sam's as if for protection. Sam smiled as well, happy that the small crisis seemed to be over. "Dad, catch the light on your way out, would you?" Sam asked, urging his father out of the room.

"Alright guys, goodnight again. And no monkey- oh hell, I'm not stupid, just keep it down to a dull roar," Mr. Evans said, rolling his eyes, turning off the light switch, and pulling the door shut behind him.

"Does he really know that monkeys are in business?" Rory asked nervously. He remembered that originally they had been forbidden to do such things under the Evans' roof.

Sam smirked. "Probably. We're teenage boys, sharing a bed. We're hormonal. You do the math." He sighed, sleepy once again. "Get on back to sleep. I love you," he said, kissing him on the forehead.

"I love ye' too, Sammy. No monkeys tonight, though. Just some sleep," the young man said. He needn't tell Sam about the monkeys being out of business – the protective man having already drifted off to sleep.

-ooo-

Rory woke up the next morning feeling like a zombie. After having his nightmare, it had taken him almost a half hour to fall back asleep, despite Sam's arms wrapped around him. The aforementioned blonde sat up, yawned, and stretched, watching his boyfriend pick out his clothes.

"You know, I'm sure dad would let you go in late, or not at all, since you didn't get much sleep and all," Sam suggested with a wink. Not even a good few weeks into school and he was already trying to talk Rory into skipping classes to stay home.

"Nah, I can't. I need to be getting' back in the routine of things," Rory replied. "Ye' better enjoy ye'r last week of freedom. Ye' start work next Monday, remember?"

Sam smiled proudly. "Thank god for that! I've been pretty bored, actually. I wish mom and dad didn't make me quit that pizza job. At least then I could have something to do."

Rory shrugged and took his clothes with him to the bathroom to get ready. When he came back, he had on one of Sam's favorite outfits – a pale blue and white plaid button up shirt, khaki pants, and of course his black and white shoes and wallet chain.

"You look so sexy in that. I love that shirt. It matches your eyes," Sam told him, pulling him in for a kiss. The teen blushed at the compliment. No matter how long they remained together, Rory would most likely blush at every compliment Sam ever gave him.

After Sam dropped Rory off at school, he rode around the area for a while. He stopped by the mall, just to walk around. As he passed by the tuxedo shop, he noticed the saleswoman who had helped him pick out a suit for prom. He smiled at waved at her, then continued on. He ducked into FYE and started browsing the games and movies.

The bored teen fished around in his pocket to see how much cash he had on him. Fifty bucks. He noticed a new version of  _FIFA_  was coming out soon and available for preorder. He only had to pay ten dollars ahead, so he decided to reserve a copy, spending the rest on a used copy of  _Need For Speed_  as well as a used copy of the movie  _Labyrinth_. He hadn't seen it in years, and it had fascinated him as a kid. Rory most likely had never seen it. He paid for his items, having a whole three dollars leftover. He stopped by the cookie shop and bought one of the large chocolate chip cookies. They were big and chewy and soft, just the way Rory loved them.

Sam checked his watch. He had been looking around the store and walking around aimlessly a lot longer than he thought. Ten thirty. It was way too early to try and meet him for lunch – that wasn't until just past noon—but that didn't mean he couldn't make an impromptu appearance.

-ooo-

Rory sat in English class, twirling his pencil between his fingers as the teacher droned on about the first book they would be reading for class.  _Wuthering Heights_.  _How dull. I could pull a more entertaining story out of me arse,_ Rory thought. He looked up at the clock above the door, his eyes trailing downward just in time to see a blonde and blue blur. Sam had been wearing blue that morning, but it couldn't possibly be him.

The teen felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was a single vibration – a text message. Keeping an eye out for being caught, he cautiously slipped the phone from his pocket and pushed the button to read the text.

_Time for a bathroom break._

Rory bit his lip to hide the smile that crossed his face. He slipped the phone back in his pocket and raised his hand to ask to leave the room. He opened the door and stepped into the hall. Standing at the corner about five yards away was Sam, leaning against the wall.

Sam motioned him over, watching the grin widening on the younger boy's face. Rory trotted over, trying not to seem overanxious. "Sammy, what are ye' doing here?" he whispered.

"I just wanted to see you," Sam said innocently. He reached out and took Rory's hand. "Come on, the janitor's closet is right over there."

"Sam…" Rory smirked. "Here? Now?" he let himself be led away to the door on the other side of the hallway. Sam didn't say anything but just pulled him into the dark closet. He clicked the light switch on and the tiny room filled with a very dull yellow light.

Sam pushed him up against the shelving and started kissing him hungrily. Rory couldn't help but let himself go and kiss back just as urgently. Sam reached up and slid his hands under Rory's shirt, massaging his stomach and moving upward.

The young Irish lad couldn't help himself any longer. He slid his own hands up Sam's shirt and started kneading his pecs, pinching the nubs of his nipples between his fingers. "I only 'ave a couple minutes," he breathed between kisses.

"I know," Sam said, unbuttoning his boyfriend's pants and roughly grabbing his manhood. "Just enjoy this. A little midday treat," he instructed, getting down on his knees and taking Rory's growing erection into his mouth.

Rory had to bite his lips to keep from making noise as Sam worked on him vigorously. He felt the older teen pressing his finger into the area between his balls and ass, massaging and encouraging him. Sam was working on him desperately, as if his life depended on it.

Within a matter of seconds it seemed, Rory was stifling his moans as he released himself into Sam's hungry mouth. Sam milked every last drop out of him, swallowing it all. He stood up, stuffed the boy's softening penis back in his pants and buttoned them up. He kissed him several times, the younger boy's seed still fresh on Sam's lips.

"You better get back to class, but I just wanted to stop and say 'hi,'" Sam whispered devilishly, turning the light off. "Oh, and check your locker before lunch." He licked his lips, making sure nothing was left, and slowly opened the door. Nobody around.

The two boys quickly exited the closet, looking around to make sure they weren't seen. "Your face is a little flushed. Oh well, nobody will notice. Go on, I'll see you this afternoon," Sam said with a smile. They kissed again and Rory hurried away.

"Psst," Sam hissed just loud enough for Rory to hear him. The boy paused, looking back as Sam mouthed "I love you." Rory grinned and mouthed it back before sliding back into the classroom.

After class, he ran to his locker to see what Sam had left. Inside he found a small bag with one of the large cookies from the store in the mall, a note stuck on the top.

_Have a good lunch. I love you!_  It read in Sam's messy handwriting. Rory smiled, thanking everything holy for Sam and his thoughtfulness. He was so lost in his bliss that he didn't even notice Blaine tapping him on the shoulder, trying to get his attention to walk together to lunch.

Every day the rest of the week, Sam left a surprise in Rory's locker by lunchtime. Tuesday he left a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Wednesday was a plastic cup filled with four leaf clovers (for good luck on his first test—already!), Thursday was the redemption slip for the FIFA game, and Friday was Sam himself, waiting by his locker holding a bag of fast food. He ate in the quad with him, Tina, Artie, Blaine and Sugar. Sam couldn't help but notice that Sugar was regularly looking in Rory's direction, stealing glances at him when he wasn't paying attention.

"I think Sugar has the hots for you," Sam teased as he walked Rory to his next class.

"The hots?" Rory gave his trademark look of confusion.

Sam grinned. "Yeah. I think she likes you. I saw her looking at you when you weren't paying attention. I can't blame her. You  _are_  the most attractive guy in the school."

Rory blushed. "Stop, that's not true. After all, ye'r in the school at the moment, and I think ye' win that award." The hall was crowded, so he settled for a hand holding as opposed to a kiss. "Ye' really think she likes me?"

"Yeah. Why, are you interested?" Sam joked. Rory let a look of horror cross his face.

"Oh me god, no!" he exclaimed, both of them laughing. "She's nice and all, but I already have me man. Emphasis on  _man_. Even if I was single she wouldn't 'ave a chance. She should go out with Artie."

Sam cocked his head. "Why Artie?"

"Because he has those hots for her. He told me so," the younger teen replied. "Maybe I can encourage him to ask her out. She needs someone to give her attention, anyway."

"Definitely," Sam agreed. He didn't know Sugar that well, but everyone knew she was high maintenance and needy—something Artie would be able to deal with. "I wonder why he told you, I didn't think you two talked much."

Rory shrugged. "We didn't talk a lot last year. No reason. We just never did. He helped me out after a slushing once, though. I think we talk a little more this year because it's like... there's only five of us left. Of the regular group. I guess we're getting a little closer now."

The elder teen smiled at him. "Makes sense." The walk to Rory's destination was entirely too short. "Well, here's your class," he said, nodding at Rory. "I guess I better get going. I'll pick you up this afternoon," he added, standing aside but not taking his eyes off of him. "Love you."

"Love ye' too. Thanks for lunch." They hugged and then Sam watched as his boyfriend disappeared into the classroom. He grinned slightly as he noted the subtle sway of the boy's rear as he walked, his jeans hugging him in just the right places. Sam unconsciously licked his bottom lip, then turned away to head toward the exit.

-ooo-

Sunday night, Sam was all nerves again. He would be starting his new job tomorrow and any time Sam was set to start something new, he would make himself and anyone nearby near-insane with his nervous energy. He was currently driving Rory crazy, digging through the closet to find the perfect outfit to wear to work. The young teen suggested that he go with a simple pair of dress pants, button up shirt and tie, but Sam had to pick out the perfect color shirt to wear and which tie would match and if he should wear a jacket or not.

"Sammy, calm down. Ye'r getting all worked up. Just go with the white shirt and the striped tie and come to bed," Rory insisted. "And take this," he added, handing Sam a container marked 'Melatonin'. "It helps ye' get to sleep."

"Thanks but I don't think I-"

"Take it!" Rory demanded, raising his voice over Sam's. The blonde was taken aback by the outburst but then laughed, conceding to take the vitamin.

"You're scary when you're mad," Sam commented, swallowing the small, white pill. "Remind me never to argue with you." Rory grinned and pat the space next to him, signaling Sam to turn off the light and hop into bed next to him.

The next morning, Sam was still a basket case, but not as bad as he had been. He had gotten as far as getting dressed and groomed, but he was still debating on the tie. Rolling his eyes in frustration, Rory grabbed the tie, slung it around Sam's neck, and tied it.

"There. Ye' look like a professional businessman. Now take me to school and get ye'r first day over with so ye' can tell me all about it," Rory instructed, crossing his arms and keeping an annoyed huff buried in his chest.

All of a sudden, Sam let out a cry. "Oh no! I totally forgot! What are we gonna do?"

Rory looked at the blonde as if he'd grown an extra head. "What are ye' talking about, Sammy? Forgot what? Do about what?"

"You! I won't be getting off until five. How are you gonna get home?"

The Irishman shrugged. "I'll get a ride with Blaine. I'll ask him if he can give me a ride home until we figure something else out. He won't mind, I'm sure." Sam still looked fretful.

"But it's out of his way, what if he says he can't?"

Rory rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Sammy? It's all of two extra turns down the road. Next to ye', he's me best mate anyway, so I know he'll help me out. Stop worrying."

"Okay, okay. I'm just nervous. Let me get you to school and then I can freak out on my own," Sam replied.

They climbed into the truck and were on their way. Sam asked one more time if Blaine would be okay with driving Rory home, and the younger teen glared at him. "Right, right, Blaine will be cool. Text me when you get home. I love you."

"Text me if ye' pass out from hypertension. I love ye' too," Rory said, Sam watching him as he walked into the school.

-ooo-

Sam took a deep breath as he got out of the truck, locked the door, and looked up at the radio station. He had already been inside for the interview, but now it looked much more intimidating.

_I can do this,_  he thought to himself as he walked through the revolving door into the lobby. The receptionist let him into the employee area and guided him to his boss' office. The man was in his thirties, black hair, husky, and while dressed in a suit and tie, he looked very friendly.

"Hi, I'm Neil. Nice to meet you, Sam," he said, standing and shaking Sam's hand, giving him a friendly smile, silently praising himself for recalling the name from the memo he found stuck to his computer when he arrived that morning.

"Nice to meet you, too, sir," Sam replied, trying to calm his nerves.

Neil grinned at him. "Calm down, Sam. This is your first day of work, not entry into the army." Sam broke a smile and couldn't help but feel more at ease. "I take it that HR didn't go over the dress code with you," he added, looking Sam over.

Sam felt his face flush a deep crimson. "Uh, no sir, but I thought this would be okay. Should I wear a jacket next time? A nicer shirt?"

Neil laughed. "No, no, actually none of that will be necessary. See, that kind of thing is for the higher level businessmen. Guys like you, our entry level employees, and our marketing team, they get to be a little more comfortable."

Sam cocked his head. "Comfortable, sir?"

"Okay, rule number one. My name is Neil. Use it. None of this 'sir' crap. I'm not even forty yet, don't age me so fast." He chuckled again, the sound putting Sam at ease. "As for your dress code, jeans, a polo shirt tucked in with a belt, and nice casual shoes will do fine. Just plain polo shirts, or ones with the station logo."

The blonde smiled. "Wow, that sounds great. A lot more comfortable than a tie and dress shoes," he commented.

"Good, good. Now let me take you around, introduce you to some people around here. It's not a huge station, so our staff isn't that big. You'll get to know everyone soon enough," Neil said, taking lead and showing Sam around the office.

Neil pointed out the most important rooms first – the kitchen, the break room, and the bathrooms. Next he introduced him to the rest of management, the marketing team, and let him peer into the DJ booth. A show was going on so they couldn't go in, but he would get the chance later.

"I know this isn't glamorous, Sam. You're going to be doing a lot of random jobs – stuff that nobody else feels like doing. It can be anywhere from picking up supplies for the marketing team from the store, to filing CDs and prepping them for shows. It's pretty much… the crap work," Neil said with a laugh. "But you knew this going in, I assume?"

"Oh yeah. They told me all about it. I can't complain, I'm fresh out of high school and have no real experience. This is a great opportunity for me," Sam explained, trying to sound professional.

Neil looked him over again. "So what is it you're working toward? DJ? Marketing? Management? Music career?"

Sam half-smiled. "I want my own album eventually. It doesn't even have to be a big deal, I just want to have one, maybe get some airplay and do a few live gigs, but I don't expect to be the next Justin Bieber."

Neil about choked. "I'm going to pretend you did not just reference the Biebs, but I get your drift. Why don't you want to go that far? Why set your sights so locally?"

Sam shrugged. "I uh… I guess I didn't think I really… I don't know if I have what it takes for all that. I don't know if I can handle the celebrity thing."

Neil nodded. "Fair enough. If you're gonna stay here, and use this place as a stepping stone, do me a favor and don't stop."

"Don't stop?"

"Yeah. Don't stop. If things are going in your favor, and you get that album, if you get discovered by the right person and get on a label, kid, you can go anywhere. Don't throw that away because you don't think you can handle the 'celebrity thing'."

Sam didn't say anything at first. Neil certainly seemed interested in what his goals were, when he didn't even know himself. Neil seemed pretty serious about his promise, however, and was waiting for an answer.

"Come on, Sam. It's cliché, but reach for the stars. Don't limit yourself. If you find out you got it, go with it. Otherwise, what are you doing here?" Neil said confidently.

The words were very inspirational, especially since Sam had been in the office all of a half hour and already was getting a high powered pep talk. "Sure. Sure thing. I guess that's fair."

"That's a better attitude, kid," Neil said, grinning. "That doesn't mean you'll get to climb that ladder any easier, but it does mean you'll try harder and get there faster. You made a good choice."

"Thanks," Sam replied simply, feeling a little dumb giving such a lame response.

Having given him the grand tour and inspiring pep talk, Neil turned him loose with his immediate supervisor to get started on his first task. The CD racks needed serious reorganizing, but nobody felt like doing it. Time for Sam to get started.

-ooo-

"How do you think he's doing?" Blaine asked Rory as he drove him home. Rory had tried not to think about Sam all day, trying to focus on his work and not worry about how his first day was going.

"I'm sure he's doing just fine. He'll tell me all about it tonight," Rory replied. Blaine pulled up into the driveway. "Ye' wanna come in for a little while? I can make ye' a snack."

Blaine smiled. "Sure, that'd be great." He wasn't surprised in the least when Rory's snack was Ritz crackers with peanut butter. Rory handed him a glass for fruit punch, and, clutching their feast, the boys went to the Irishman's room to relax and enjoy their snack.

"Ye' know, ye' can come over anytime, right Blaine? I know ye'r lonely without Kurt here," Rory offered between bites, plopping himself down on the bedside.

"Thanks. I appreciate it," the senior replied. "It's been so hard being away from Kurt. I know he's having the time of his life up there, but it doesn't make it any easier."

The Irishman smiled at his friend. "Trust me, I know how it feels. A little bit, anyway. I got so lonely without Sam this summer, and it was hard to focus on anything fun. I had to distract meself with stuff and it didn't always work, but ye' know, ye' got friends to help ye' through it."

Blaine sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "That means a lot, Rory. You're a great friend. Really."

Rory blushed as he always did at compliments. "Ye've been a great friend to me, too. Ye've helped me with so much the past year. Sam, too. And Kurt has helped too. I think ye'r both better than a sack of fresh market potatoes."

Blaine chuckled. "I love your sayings. They're so awkward. Of course I guess ours seem awkward to you."

"What's so awkward about potatoes? There's nothing better than a market fresh potato used for some potatocakes or stuffing," Rory replied, making his trademarked face of confusion.

"Not a thing. Not a thing. Maybe you can make some potatocakes sometime. I never had any. I never had  _any_  Irish food actually," Blaine admitted.

An almost evil grin crossed Rory's face. "Ever hear of black pudding?"

"Oh no you don't!" Blaine exclaimed. "Sam told me about that stuff and he said it's awful!"

Rory laughed. "It's worth a try. I don't know how to make it like me mam does though, so ye' might be safe from that. I'll make ye' some potatocakes sometime though."

Blaine leaned his head on Rory's shoulder. "Thanks. That'd be awesome."  _Why am I leaning on him like that? That's kind of touchy_ _. What if I offended him?_  Blaine thought to himself. He sat up and apologized. "Sorry, I didn't mean to… you know, get too physical."

"Ye'r fine, Blaine. I know ye' don't mean anything by it. Nothing wrong with innocent affection between friends," Rory explained. "Come here."

The older boy sat back down as Rory pulled him closer, letting him lean on his shoulder again, wrapping his arm around Blaine's back and pulling him closer so their sides touched.

"See. No harm, right? It's just friends. It's not like me and Sam, or ye' and Kurt. This is just friends," Rory said. "Just don't get  _too_  touchy, if ye' know what I mean," he added, chuckling to himself.

Blaine smiled. "I know. I wouldn't do that. Not to Kurt, or you, or Sam. But I have to admit, it is nice to be hugged or feel close to someone."

"Well then, feel free to hug me or Sam anytime ye' want. We 'ave hugs to spare," Rory replied happily.

Their conversation was interrupted by a noise from Rory's cell phone. He picked it up off the nightstand and looked at the screen. It was a text message from Sam.

_Everything went great. Be home around 5:30. Love you so much!"_

Rory grinned and quickly typed up a reply.

_I love you too! See you when you get home. Blaine says hello_

A couple of minutes later, he received not a text, but a picture message. Rory clicked the button to open it, and it was a picture of Sam, in the CD storage room, waving hello and grinning. A smile stretching his face, Rory typed out a reply.

_You look so cute! Can't wait to hear about your first day!_

"He looks like he's having fun," Blaine observed. "I hope this job works out for him."

"Yeah, me too. Knowing Sam, he'll make it work, somehow," the younger boy replied.

They decided to play a video game – Rory ended up kicking Blaine's butt in  _FIFA_ , so they switched to  _Mario Kart_  for a more fair game. They played right up until Sam came home.

"Sammy!" Rory cried, leaping off the bed and into Sam's arms. "How was ye'r first day? Tell me all about it!"

Sam laughed. "Let me get in the door first!" Rory backed off of him so he could get in the room. "Sheesh, first Stacy and Stevie, and now being mauled by my boyfriend," he joked. He was already untying his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt when he noticed another dark haired guy sitting on the bed. "Hey Blaine, how are you?"

"I'm fine. Want me to give you a second to change?" he asked, starting to get up.

Sam shrugged. "It's not like you're gonna drool over me. You got Kurt. It's just you," he said with a laugh. Before Blaine could say anything, he pulled off his undershirt and tossed it in the hamper, followed by his pants, leaving him standing there in his boxers. Blaine politely averted his eyes nonetheless, focusing instead on the game he was losing.

Sam pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and plopped down on the bed. "You realize I can kick both your asses in this game, right?"

Accepting the challenge, the boys decided to race each other, turning off the computer controlled characters so that it was only the three of them. A little while later, Sam's mom poked her head in the door.

"Hi Blaine, nice to see you again," she greeted him. "Staying for dinner?"

Blaine looked unsure, since he hadn't yet been invited and didn't want to say yes in case his friends were ready for some alone time.

"Sure he is!" Sam replied for him. "Just yell when it's ready."

Mrs. Evans smiled and backed out the door, returning to the kitchen to start dinner. Blaine looked over at Sam and smiled. "Thanks! Usually Kurt and I ended up eating at each other's places."

"Yeah, well, Kurt isn't here, so you'll have to suffer with us instead," Sam chuckled. "Now come on, give me a real race."

The three friends played Mario Kart until dinner was ready, Blaine heading home shortly after eating. He thanked them all profusely, filled with a warmth in his heart at the closeness and friendship Sam and Rory were extending to him, especially when he was so lonely and bummed out.  _Perhaps it won't be as bad as I thought it would be_ , he thought, hope blooming in his chest. _I still miss Kurt, but friends like these guys make it easier._

-ooo-

By the end of the week, Sam had gotten into the swing of his new job, spending the first three days tackling the massive CD room. He could see why nobody else wanted to take the time since it was monotonous work, but in a way it was fun, because he could stop and listen to anything he wanted to while he was working. He brought in his laptop and ripped MP3s of numerous CDs, expanding his collection considerably. The station didn't mind as long as he didn't distribute anything.

Rory, on the other hand, was having a slightly tougher time. Chemistry was getting the better of him, sending him home frustrated and wanting to tear his workbook to shreds. Liberal Arts, Math, and Composition English were much better. Good thing, since if Rory was going to be balancing the checkbook, he better be good with numbers. Every time he started working on his English homework, he thought of Sam and wished there was more he could do to help him with his dyslexia. His last class was gym, which he was also struggling with since aside from soccer and swimming, his sports skills were lacking, and the other boys wasted no time in laughing at him.

-ooo-

The following Wednesday, Blaine left right as Sam was getting home. He hugged them both and bade them goodbye. After the senior was gone, Sam and his boyfriend headed up to their room, where the older teen started changing.

"So, how was your day, babe?" Sam asked casually, removing his pants.

Sighing, Rory began his latest complaint about his classes. "E'ery day it seems like chemistry just gets harder and harder. I'm afraid I might make something explode if I'm not careful," Rory lamented. "It just makes no sense to me. I 'ave good grades in e'erything else, but this… it just goes o'er me head."

"If you're having trouble, why not get a tutor? I sucked at chem, but I'm sure you can find someone to help you after school," Sam suggested, pulling a shirt over his head and ruffling his hair back into place. "Someone like Blaine, maybe. He's a senior, he took chem and passed it."

"I'll get it, I guess. I'll just try harder," the Irishman replied, shrugging and ignoring Sam's suggestion.

"You're not embarrassed to ask someone to tutor you, are you?" Sam arched an eyebrow, knowing that he was right, regardless of the answer Rory would give.

"No! I just don't need one. I can figure it out on me own," the younger teen argued defensively.

Sam smirked. "If you say so, just don't be too shy to ask for help. How's it going in gym?" He decided to steer the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to agitate his boyfriend over something like schoolwork. Rory had complained once before about having trouble with gym, but maybe he was having better luck with it than his academic class.

The teen sighed. "Still not very good. I suck, and e'eryone makes sure I know it, too. We're playing American football and I just can't manage to get it right. I'm not fast enough and I throw bad, and they all laugh at me when I fall down," he complained in a run-on sentence. "They don't 'ave to be such jerks."

Sam sat down next to him and put his arm around his neck. "To hell with them, baby. You'll get better. We can practice some this weekend. If Stevie can manage, so can you." He kissed him on top of the head and squeezed his shoulder. "Gym doesn't matter in the real world anyway. Kind of like algebra, or English."

"Thanks, Sammy," Rory replied. He debated making a smart remark regarding Sam's dismissal of both algebra and English, but his heart wasn't into it. "I'd ask Blaine for help, but I don't think he knows even how to play."

"Blaine won't play anything that might mess up his perfectly gelled hair. I don't blame him: if I spent that kind of time on my appearance, I wouldn't chance messing it up, either." Both of them laughed heartily, knowing their friend spent far too much time perfecting his look. "I still think you should ask him for help with chem though."

Conceding to the fact he wasn't going to get anywhere else with the conversation right then, Sam plopped down on the bed and fired up the Playstation 3. "Race me," he ordered with a grin. Rory lay next to him, taking a controller and selecting his racer. Halfway through the game, he set down the controller mid-lap.

"Do ye' think it's okay, what we're doing?" Rory asked, sitting up. His racer ended up in a wall, Sam passing him by.

"Is what okay? The game? Sure, why? Do you think there's something wrong with us playing it?"

Rory smiled at Sam's obliviousness. "No, I meant with Blaine."

Sam paused the game and sat up as well, looking at his boyfriend, confusion drawing his eyebrows together.

"Not with the hanging out, but with the… closeness," Rory clarified. "Do ye' think it's okay to be so… affectionate?"

It was Sam's turn to shrug. "I don't see anything wrong with it. It isn't sexual. He has Kurt, and we have each other, and he's just lonely. A little physical affection won't hurt anything as long as it stays G rated," he replied. "Why, did he go too far or something?"

The Irishman shook his head. "No, no, not at all. In fact, I can tell he's a little apprehensive. I guess I just wanted to make sure ye' weren't getting the wrong feeling about it."

Sam threw his arm around Rory's shoulder, pulling him back and laying together. "I trust you with ever fiber of my being, baby. If you can still fight back after being drugged, I know damn well that you would never willingly do something like cheat."

Rory smiled, nuzzling his head in the crook of Sam's neck. "As long as ye' know it's just friendly, and nothing else. I like Blaine. He's a good friend. He's helped us both, ye' know. A lot."

"Yeah, he has. He was there for us when Sebastian tried to drug you. He was there for us when we got into that argument. Hell, he was there for me when I was struggling with figuring out why in the hell I was growing to like you as more than a friend. He encouraged me. I guess in a way, he helped us get together," Sam said, reflecting on the many times Blaine had been a positive influence on them.

"I feel bad for him, ye' know, with Kurt being gone. It's like when I was back in Ireland. Lonely," Rory replied. After a moment he chuckled to himself, Sam wondering what was so funny. "I just can't believe how ye' changed pap in the week ye' were there. It still makes me smile."

Sam grinned, pleased with himself. "I just helped dig it out of your dad. I think he knew everything all along; he just needed a little push in the right direction. I gotta admit though, I never expected him to encourage you to stay here if you wanted to."

Both of them were silent for several minutes. It wasn't tense, but Sam had been around Rory long enough to know that there was something on the Irishman's mind just from the way he sighed with every breath. "What are you thinking about?"

"About here. Staying here, I mean. It sounds so tempting. But I still 'ave me family at ho- in Ireland." Sam picked up on Rory's deliberate wording, and it amused him and warmed his heart to know Rory thought of Sam's home as being more of his own home than back in Ireland.

"Wanna know what I think about it?" Sam asked. He didn't wait for a reply. "I think—as much as I hate being away from you—that spending the summer in Ireland was a good idea for you. I think you need to spend at least one more summer there before you make a decision. I want you to be happy with what you decide."

Rory was silent, thinking hard. He finally spoke once his thoughts cleared up. "I agree. It does make sense. But… I want to make a home with ye' here. I want to live with ye', get our own place, make it  _our home_. Maybe even get a pet. I just want us to be on our own, like real adults."

Both of them were smiling at the thought of being on their own, out of Sam's house and into their own place, taking care of themselves. "We can make that happen someday, baby. I promise. We can get an apartment, or a condo, or a small house. We can decorate it any way you want, and you can make a little garden, even. That'd be so cute: my little house-husband, tending to his garden," Sam giggled, rolling onto his side so that he could gaze at his boyfriend's face as he described their future together. "You could grow your own potatoes so you can make potato cakes for breakfast. We can get a dog or a cat to keep us company. Yeah, we can make it all happen if we try."

Rory rolled over and wrapped his arms around Sam. "That sounds wonderful, Sammy. I want that, I want it very bad. But only with ye'. I can't imagine doing that with anyone else. It would only feel right with ye'."

Sam kissed the top of the smaller teen's head, and the pair laid there in each other's arms, losing track of time until they were summoned for dinner. Sam's mom inquired as to why they seemed to be in such a cheerful mood.

"Just thinking about the future. What we wanna work toward. That's all," Sam replied.

"Oh, that sounds nice. White picket fence and everything?" she asked with a large grin.

"No fence, but a nice place to live, and a pet," Rory replied. "Just to be on our own. Have our own home."

Mrs. Evans hugged him and kissed his forehead. "That sounds wonderful. I hope it happens someday. I'd love to see you two on your own, happy together."

"There's enough fluff going on in here to stuff a pillow," Mr. Evans laughed as he entered the kitchen. "I'm hungry, let's eat."

While they were fixing their plates, Sam's dad nudged him, lowering his voice. "You know son, that's a real good dream. I know you can make it happen. Just don't tell your mom I'm encouraging you. She's already gonna be a mess of tears thinking about you moving out on your own. Both of you."

Sam and Rory both spent the rest of the evening thinking about their little home they wanted. Neither of them spoke of what they were picturing, occupying themselves with a movie and some popcorn, but their minds were nowhere near the film. After all, a goal for their future was something they both needed to take seriously.

-ooo-

Mr. Schuester called the glee club meeting to order, the small group not very lively to begin with; it hadn't been since the school year started: it just wasn't the same without the original group. Tina and Artie were the only ones left from the first year; Blaine, Rory, and Sugar being from the previous year. It was... disheartening.

"It has come to Principal Figgins' attention that we haven't recruited a full glee club yet. He has informed me that, if we can't secure the minimum of twelve, we will be forced to disband the club."

There was an awkward silence in the room as Mr. Schue's words sank in. This was the closest that they had come to the glee club being disbanded from lack of participation. In the past they had managed to scrounge up members, but this time, it looked bad. The cheerios girls quit after the second meeting, citing Sue as their reason. Mitchell stayed but was so timid that he could barely get his voice above normal speech.

"Sectionals is the second week of November, guys. Figgins is giving us two weeks to reach twelve members, or we're being shut down, and to be honest, I have no idea what to do," Mr. Schue went on, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Sue has added her two cents and made sure to be on the alert in case we tried to meet 'unofficially'. At least on school grounds."

The rest of the afternoon, they were all so somber he released them early, seeing as how nothing was going to be accomplished that day. A week later, and there was still no progress. They were getting desperate, having done a second performance in the quad that earned them no more signups. Mr. Schue entertained the idea Sugar offered about paying people, but the caveat was that they had to use students, and those she couldn't get. It looked grim.

-ooo-

Every night since the big announcement, Rory came home glum, Blaine in tow and in a similar state. They had long since run out of ideas to save the club, and, with school getting progressively busier, they spent more and more time just doing their homework and less time able to concentrate on rescuing the glee club.

"You know, I'm afraid that maybe we  _can't_  keep glee from disbanding," Blaine lamented. "I've never felt so powerless in my life."

"Ye'r right. It's even worse for Tina and Artie. They've been with the club since it started. It's their senior year—their last big chance to leave a mark on the school—and they 'ave to watch it fall apart. That's gotta be hard on them," Rory replied, sighing.

"Too bad you really aren't a leprechaun. Then we could just wish for everything to work out," the older teen laughed. "Did you really sit and pick out every single marshmallow to fill an entire box of Lucky Charms last year?"

Rory just smiled devilishly.

"Didn't you have a crush on Brittany? That's why you did it, right?"

The Irish boy scoffed. "That was the idea."

"So when did you figure out you liked guys? When Sam came along?"

Rory shook his head. "I always knew somethin' was different about me, I just ne'er knew what. None of it made any sense, but I figured it was just what being a teenager was all about. Figuring stuff out. I thought that, if I dated Brittany, at least it might make me popular, make me friends here. Then I would start to understand meself, too."

"You would have slept with her just to get friends?" Blaine asked skeptically. "That doesn't seem like you."

"I was desperate, Blaine. I hardly 'ave any friends at home. By comin' to America, I thought I could start o'er. Make friends, be popular for once. And uh... well, I was a virgin, and I kind of thought that might make people make fun of me. I never expected someone like Santana to mess it up. The whole thing is something I'm not proud of. It was stupid."

The boy sounded kind of sad as he recalled the memory. It was a pretty foul way to begin things; deceiving Brittany; however, he'd been desperate, not only to make friends, but also, being a virgin, desperate to lose his virginity, even if it was to a girl. He tried not to think about it all. He was ashamed of his behavior and was thankful that as far as he knew, Sam had never heard the entire story: just bits and pieces.

"I understand where you were coming from though. It  _is_ hard starting over. I think you did pretty good, honestly. You got past that and ended up meeting Sam, and now you're happy and  _definitely_  not a virgin anymore," Blaine chuckled, putting his arm around his friend in a tight hug.

"Thanks. I'm glad ye' don't think bad of me," Rory smiled.

Blaine grinned and hugged him again. "You're an awesome guy, Rory. I couldn't think bad about you. And you know, I'm glad Sam was your first. He's such a nice guy, I know it was special for you, and you deserve that instead of just a random encounter with Brittany."

They both laughed heartily at that comment. Blaine was right—he deserved for it to be special, so in a way it was a blessing that his plot never worked out. He would have felt cheap and empty had Brittany been his first, especially since rumor had it that she often called out the wrong names during sex.

"And what are you boys up to, so cute and cuddly, hmm?" came Sam's voice as he entered the bedroom. "Behaving yourselves I hope."

"No Sammy, Blaine here was just ravaging me like he always does while you're at work. Of course."

Sam gasped in an over-exaggerated breath. "Well, I never! I guess in that case I am just going to have to kill you!" With that, Sam approached his boyfriend and tackled him onto the floor, tickling him mercilessly. Rory began to squeal and thrash as he tried to release himself from the constant assault of tickles, his sounds drowned out by the loud guffaws of their friend, still sitting safely on the bed.

"Oh me God, help me! He's killin' me, Blaine! Help me!" Rory called amidst his own laughter.

"Oh, no! He can't help you none, kid! He's getting tackled too!" Sam declared, keeping Rory restrained between his legs and leaning over just far enough to grasp Blaine by the leg and drag him to the floor.

The three boys ended up in a pile of bodies that thrashed about playfully, squealing, laughing, and panting until they were all so out of breath, they called a truce.

"Thanks, Sammy. We needed a laugh," Rory breathed. As they disentangled themselves, Sam decided it was obviously time to talk about  _something_.

"Okay guys, so seriously, what's up? Why are you bummed?" the blonde asked, hoping it was nothing too dire.

"We were just talking about glee club and getting kind of sad about it. Time's almost up and we still don't 'ave enough members. Mr. Schuester is gonna 'ave to shut it down," Rory explained. "Coach Sylvester is keeping an eye out, too, to make sure we don't meet anyway."

Sam frowned and plopped down between the two, throwing an arm around each of them, pulling Rory in for a kiss on the cheek first. "If I know you two, and if I know Mr. Schue, even if he has to shut it down for a while, it isn't the end. You're all fighters. Glee club will come back; it just  _has_  to. Everyone needs the music more than they might be willing to admit."

"Let's hope so. Right now, things look pretty grim," Blaine admitted. "I guess we'll just have to see."

Sam tried to cheer them up further, but the mood was just not going to happen now that the issue was disclosed. The two glee club members were depressed, and Sam could only do but so much to make them happy. At least his tickle attack had given them a temporary bit of enjoyment. He invited Blaine to stay for dinner, but understandably he wasn't very hungry so he went home. It was heartbreaking for Sam to see his boyfriend and friend so depressed and not being able to do anything else about it.

-ooo-

All six glee club members sat in depressed silence, waiting for Mr. Schuester to come in and give them the bad news they knew was coming. Tina was already starting to cry. Sugar was prepared with a wad of cash and her cell phone: she was determined there had to be some way to buy themselves out of this tragic mess. Everyone had dressed in all black—giving homage to the death of their beloved glee club.

Mr. Schuester finally walked in, the look on his face one they had never seen before: defeat, depression, and powerlessness. Tina started to sob harder.

"You all know what I'm about to say," Mr. Schue began, looking around at his handful of members. "Figgins has pulled the plug, just like he said he would." Everyone was hanging their heads, hiding tears, except for Tina who sobbed openly.

Sugar stood up. "Isn't there  _some_  way we can-"

Mr. Schue shook his head. "No. I'm afraid money isn't going to get us out of this one, Sugar. We can't buy people into the club. I wish it  _was_ that easy."

The teacher had tears forming in his own eyes. "This club has been the best three years of my career as a teacher. You guys have given my life so much meaning, and have helped pull me out of some of my deepest lows. We've all done that for each other." He sniffled a moment before continuing.

"I didn't think I would see it end so soon. Artie, Tina, I know this is hardest for you. You two are the last members of the original group. This was supposed to be an awesome senior year, but now..."

He couldn't bring himself to go on. It was far too depressing. He had fought tooth and nail against Figgins and Sue for three whole years already to keep the glee club in operation, and, finally, they had won. There was nothing Will could do to save the club, and he just knew that somewhere, Sue was gloating in triumph.

The rest of the time they spent in tears, too depressed to recount memories that would only drive them into depression more. It was over. Glee club was over. They were defeated and there was nothing they could do, because once sectionals was over, they couldn't qualify for competition even if they did find enough people.

Will Schuester, Tina Cohen-Chang, Artie Abrams, Blaine Anderson, Sugar Motta, and Rory Flanagan had fallen, Mitchell, their newest recruit loyally at their side, and Sue was dancing like a maniac in her office with Becky Jackson, cheering, but no one was listening.

 


	32. Episode 32: I Just Wanna go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: This was a very fun chapter to write, and you will see why as you read on. It's exciting as our boys will be experiencing some major changes here soon!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Rory is still suffering from the occasional nightmare about the Azimio Incident, but he's trying to put it completely behind him. Sam finally got a job at a radio station, so now he can make some money and support himself, while Rory has been spending a lot of time with Blaine, trying to ease his loneliness without Kurt. Sadly, none of that helps out with the major event that came crashing down on them the disbanding of the glee club and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 32: I Just Wanna go Home**

It had been a week since the glee club disbanded. It was depressing, but the small group of friends still spent a little bit of time after school just singing together, or at lunch, but it wasn't the same. None of Mr. Schue's weekly assignments to get them thinking, no sectionals, regionals, or nationals to work for. No school presentations. Just a few kids singing at each other with no rhyme or reason to their song choices. It just felt hopeless. It didn't help matters that Sue was on the warpath, ready to squash any attempts to continue to meet on school grounds, and it was largely inconvenient to meet off the property.

Sam had convinced Rory not to give up yet—that something good  _had_  to happen soon—but the younger teen wasn't too hopeful. To keep his spirits up, Sam insisted that they sing to each other or do a duet together every night—some sort of musical number. For the most part, it worked. Few things made Rory happier than Sam singing to him, singing to Sam, or singing  _with_  Sam. They always waited until after dinner and Blaine had left. It was their own private little  _thing_  too special to share with even a friend as close as Blaine.

-ooo-

It was around one in the afternoon on Saturday, and everyone had just finished lunch. Stacy and Stevie were in their bedrooms, playing—Stevie with his toy cars and Stacy drawing on her easel. Mr. Evans had told them they needed to stay in their rooms for a little while: the adults needed to have a talk with Sam and Rory.

Sam was strumming his guitar while Rory was reading a book, sprawled out on the bed. Mr. Evans knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping with a sharp bang. Sam called for him to come in, setting his guitar on his lap, waiting to see what his father wanted, but instead the man simply spoke through the doorframe.

"Hey guys. You two mind coming in the kitchen for a few minutes? We need to talk to you. Both of you," the older man announced. Normally the boys would have been nervous at such an ominous request, but Mr. Evans had a smile on his face, an excited air about him.

"Have a seat," their father said as they entered the kitchen. Two chairs were already pulled out in front of the table, facing Mr. and Mrs. Evans, and a laptop sat atop the table, facing them all. Mr. Evans motioned for them to sit, both boys taking their cue, their nerves on edge.

"What's going on, dad?" Sam asked, noticing the computer.

Mr. Evans exchanged looks with his wife and gave her a nod. She pushed a button on the laptop and the screen flickered to life, Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan appearing on the monitor.

"Hello Rory, Sam," Mr. Flanagan's voice echoed. "E'eryone here?" His question was obviously for Mr. Evans, the boys unsure of who 'everyone' should be.

"Three Evans' and a Flanagan, all present and accounted for," Sam's dad announced in response, sounding like some sort of general during roll call.

"Hi, Pap. Is e'erything okay at home? Ye'? Mam? Seamus?" Rory asked hurriedly.

"Aye me son, e'erything is fine. I think it might be about to get more fine as a matter o' fact," Mr. Flanagan answered, soothing away his son's worried frown.

Mrs. Flanagan was calling out in the background, making sure everyone knew she was there too. "Hello Rory! Hello Sam!" She waved excitedly and then scooted forward to share the screen with her husband. Mrs. Evans waved back at them, grinning as well. She then walked away from the table to the kitchen counter, fiddling with something while listening to the conversation going on behind her.

"Okay, you guys are scaring me. Why are all of us in the kitchen with a Skype session going? If nobody's hurt and nothing's wrong, what's up?" Sam asked, his eyes going from parent to parent to screen.

"Should we tell them, or make them wait?" Mr. Flanagan asked mischievously.

"Tell us what, Pap?" Rory begged to know. His father was smiling with a grin that he hadn't seen before, his mother just as vibrant in excitement.

Mr. Evans shrugged. "I dunno, I guess we could go ahead. It's almost dinnertime there; I'd hate to think we were holding you guys up. I hear you make some good food over there, Mrs. Flanagan."

The Irish woman blushed and thanked the man before Mr. Flanagan took over again. He cleared his throat. "Aye, alright boyos, ye' both remember the conversation we had before ye' left?"

Sam and Rory looked at each other. "Which one?" Sam asked, a slight smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. "We talked about a lot of things, especially that one night in particular…" Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchanged brief confused glances, unaware of the drama that had occurred during Sam's trip to Ireland. All they knew was the parts of the conversation that Mr. Flanagan wanted them to know about, but apparently there was a lot more discussed.

"About how we would help ye' the best we could, me son. Er sons," Mr. Flanagan stated. Both teens smiled when he corrected himself he really had come to think of Sam as one of his own.

"Yeah, I remember. Why?" Rory replied.

"I hear from Mrs. Evans that ye' boyos 'ave been thinking a lot about ye'r futures. What was it ye' said again?"

Mrs. Evans turned to face the group, smiled smiling kindly. "Well, I just told your parents that you had been talking about wanting to have a place of your own someday. You know, make your own little home, just the two of you, and a pet, if I recall."

Sam and Rory were exchanging looks again. They were still unsure of where exactly this was going.

"Okay…" Sam muttered nodding his head for them to continue. Both teens had their hands on the table, and Rory quickly hijacked Sam's and laced their fingers together nervously.

"Maybe we should cut to the chase, I want some of that ice cream," Mr. Evans remarked jokingly. "I mean, I need to pee. Or something." His wife rolled her eyes and sent a mock-glare her husband's way. He obviously had made a faux pas of some sort.

"Me sons, Rory, Sam, the four of us 'ave been talking a lot o'er the past few days. We think that we may be able to work out an arrangement to help ye' realize ye'r dream a little sooner than ye' think," Mr. Flanagan went on, ignoring the other father's joke.

The teens stared blankly, first at Mr. Flanagan, then Mr. Evans, then back again. "Wait a second, since when do you guys keep in touch all the time? Aside from when you visited last year, I thought ya'll didn't talk much," Sam inquired. "Now you're best buddies?"

"Sure we are. We're BFFs and stuff. That's what you kids say these days, right?" Mr. Evans joked in response.

"Dad, only girls say 'BFF,' not guys, let alone grown guys. Quit dodging the question," his eldest son informed him with a stern glare.

Mr. Evans grinned. "Okay, okay, damn, tough crowd. Anyway, your mom got the gears turning in her head; you know how dangerous that can be. She kept bugging the hell out of me, then started in on the Flanagans, and before you know it, well, anyway…" He shrugged as he finished his story. Still no answers to the boys' questions, either, which they made clear by the looks of utter confusion on their faces.

"Ye'r not followin' him are ye'?" the man asked, grinning foolishly. Both boys shook their heads slowly. "We're going to get ye' an apartment. Just the two of ye'."

"What?" Sam and Rory both exclaimed at the same time, mouths falling open.

"You heard the man! Apartment. You two. In it. On your own," Mr. Evans clarified.

Rory's hand was trembling in Sam's, both of them beginning to sweat nervously. "Wait… what are ye'…. Pap…? Dad…?" Rory stammered, referring both his father and host father. The color was draining from his face as the words sank into his head. "Sam? Sammy?"

Sam was in shock of his own. His jaw still on the floor, his eyes wide. His father snapped his fingers in front of his face to break the daze. "Yo! Son! Back to Earth," he said. Sam shook it off and looked toward Rory.

"This has to be a dream," the graduate stammered. "We're dreaming right? Yeah, we have to be. No way would they… no, that's crazy. Right…? I mean…" Sam couldn't find words to describe what he was going through his mind. It was surreal. He took a deep breath, staring into his boyfriend's eyes. "I think they just said…" Sam began.

"We're getting our own…." Rory continued.

"Apartment!" the finished together. They jumped up so fast that their chairs fell to the floor, the two boys still grasping hands, hugging, and jumping around like little kids.

"Aye aye aye! Calm down, boyos!" Mr. Flanagan hollered. Still all smiles, both teens picked up their chairs and sat back down, their hands still cemented together. "There's a catch, ye' here?"

"What is it?" Sam asked quickly, looking from father to father. Sam hadn't noticed his mother had gotten up earlier and was busying herself at the countertop.

Mr. Evans took over. "The four of us parents, we're splitting the rent for the apartment. The money Rory's parents usually send us for his care, and for spending, is going toward the rent. Everything else, is up to you two. Utilities. Food. Spending money. It's on you boys."

"Good thing I'm working full time now," Sam said with a sigh of relief. "With my paycheck we can cover what we need."

"But Sam, we talked about this already. I want to contribute, too. It's not fair for ye' to do it all," Rory protested.

Mrs. Evans turned around from what she was doing at the counter to address them. "Rory, dear, I can help you with that. I happen to have friends in high places. Well, sort of. I know someone willing to let you work part time under the table."

Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan looked confused the same exact look Rory had on his face the first time he had heard the expression. "Why would he be working under a table?" they heard Mr. Flanagan whisper to his wife.

Everyone else giggled. "It's an expression, Pap. It means getting paid in cash so there isn't a record of it," Rory clarified for them. "I wondered the same thing too, at first. Sam set me straight."

"Oh, oh yes, o' course," Mr. Flanagan replied. He wasn't going to bother to ask what Rory had meant by Sam 'setting me straight' since as far as he was aware, Rory was gay. He assumed it must be another expression, meaning an explanation or clarification of information.

"There's some ground rules, of course, since  _we_  are all paying the rent and  _we_  are technically responsible for the place. But we'll go over those later. Right now, I think your mom has something to share…" Mr. Evans said, turning toward his wife.

The Flanagans watched intently as Mrs. Evans presented the project she had been working on behind their backs. It was a cake, the word 'Congratulations!' written on it in red frosting. She had decorated it with clovers around the outside, and music notes on the top near the words.

"Just a little something to celebrate the great news," she announced, setting it down on the table. Mr. Evans hopped up and grabbed something from the freezer a box of ice cream.

"Finally! Your mother has been keeping me out of this for two days!" the man complained. "Now hurry up and cut the cake, I want some ice cream!"

"You're worse than us, Dad!" Sam laughed. His mom handed him a large butcher knife. Sam put one hand on it, Rory a hand on top of his, and together they cut the first slice. The four parents cheered at the ceremonial moment in their kids' lives.

"That cake looks a might good. I wish we could be there to celebrate with ye' boyos," Mr. Flanagan said. "I love ye' both, ye' hear me?"

Sam's heart warmed at the words. Mr. Flanagan had not only come to think of him as a son, but he actually felt love for him. He had come so far since he had first met him from a strict, almost personality-less workaholic, to a personable, joking and more relaxed family man.

"Yes, Pap. We love ye' too," Rory declared. Tears of joy slowly formed on the corners of both boys' eyes. "I'm still so o'erwhelmed. This is like a fantasy come true!"

Sam jokingly started poking his parents. "You guys are real, right? I mean, this isn't a dream, right? This is really happening? Someone didn't come and replace my parents with Cylons while I was sleeping?"

"Stop poking your mother and cut her a piece of cake," his father ordered, gobbling down his own piece with no dignity whatsoever frosting all over his mouth.

"Well now that the news is out, we want ye' boyos to do some serious thinking. This is a lot o' responsibility, but we trust ye' both: we trust ye' to be responsible and act like adults. All we're helping with is rent. E'erything else is up to ye', just like we said." Mr. Flanagan gave them a stern, yet loving look that told both boys this was a serious venture they were about to take on.

"If at any time, you boys think you can't handle it anymore, you need to talk to us. We can try to work it out, at least until the lease is up, but let's not think that way, ya know?" Mr. Evans encouraged, speaking around a wad of baked goodness.

The boys were both still smiling and chomping on cake. "We'll handle it! We can do it, right Sam?" Rory asked excitedly after swallowing down a large chunk of moist cake.

"Mhmm Shh ill," Sam mumbled, nodding his head. He swallowed, and then repeated himself much clearer. "Yeah, we sure will!"

After a few more minutes of excited chatter between the pair, Mr. Flanagan cleared his throat, getting their attention. "Aye, boyos, me and ye'r mam 'ave to go now. We're meeting the O'Malley's for dinner at the Golden Greens."

"Bye Pap! I love ye' and mam! And Seamus too! Say hi to Seamus for me!" Rory exclaimed, waving into the camera.

"Love you guys! Say hey to Seamus! He needs to Skype us sometime," Sam added, waving as well.

"We love ye' both, boyos!" Mr. Flanagan replied with a smile. Mrs. Flanagan chimed in as well, sending her love. The Irish couple finally signed off, the screen going blank.

The two boys turned toward Mr. and Mrs. Evans, the parents still munching on cake and ice cream. "Eat up, you two. The more we eat now, the better. Once your brother and sister get into this stuff, they'll be so full of energy they'll be driving us bonkers," Sam's mother instructed, forking over a second slice to both boys, followed by a large scoop of ice cream.

After a few minutes of quiet eating, the questions began.

"Where are we moving to, dad?" Sam asked excitedly. "How big is it? Does it have a view?"

Mr. Evans chuckled. "Hold on, son, hold on. Who said we have something picked out already?"

Sam and Rory looked at each other in confusion.

"You boys are slow to catch on. Too much sugar," their father said. "We're going to go look at apartments so  _you_  can pick one out." The boys' eyes went wide.

"What's the budget?" Rory asked, obviously the more logical of the pair. "We don't get to pick out the penthouse suite, right?"

Both parents scoffed, choking on their cake. "Hardly. You definitely have a budget. Seven hundred max. That should get you something pretty decent."

"We could get a one bedroom and get something really fancy!" Sam suggested.

"But, Sammy, where would we keep e'erything? We 'ave a lot of stuff, we need some room. We don't want to feel squished. What about a nice two bedroom?" Rory pointed out, again proving himself to be the more logical of the two.

Sam chuckled, turning a light shade of pink and scratching the back of his head. "Oh yeah. I forgot about all that. A two bedroom it is, then."

"You guys realize what this is, right?" Mrs. Evans began. "We're giving you the opportunity to get a head start on a life together, a home. But, we're gonna make it realistic. You have a budget for your rent, but we're gonna look at some places and  _you_  get to pick it out. We won't argue with your decision, but we might give you some advice."

"We're going to make sure you guys are as involved as possible with this. That means even though we're signing the paperwork, you gotta be there for it. And Sam, you're nineteen so we  _do_  need to put your name on the lease, that way you can legally be living there," Mr. Evans pointed out.

The two teenagers were beaming in happiness. Despite the downfall of the glee club, Rory felt incredibly happy and excited. They were going to move in together, just the two of them.

"Oh yeah, and to get this out of the way no loud parties, don't do anything to get in trouble. Follow whatever rules the complex has, and for the love of god, don't burn the place down," Mr. Evans added, a smile playing over his lips.

"When do we get to go apartment hunting?" Sam asked, not bothering to respond to his father's commentary.

"Any time you're ready. Most places are closed Sundays, and kinda early on weekdays, so…" Mr. Evans replied.

Sam grabbed Rory's hands and looked into his eyes. "Looks like we're going hunting  _today_!" he cried. They hugged each other tightly, then got up and ran to their bedroom to get socks and shoes on, light jackets, and their wallets. They reappeared a couple of minutes later, ready to go.

"That was fast," Mrs. Evans stated, having just finished her slice of cake. "I need about ten minutes, guys. I gotta get the kids to the babysitter. I already told her to expect to keep them this afternoon so I just need to drop them off then we can go. They can have cake when we get back. I'm not about to torture the babysitter with two kids on sugar highs."

It was the longest ten minutes ever as they waited anxiously for her to pull up in the driveway. She didn't even get the chance to put the car into park before the excited teens had jumped into the back seat.

"This is the fun part. Remember guys, seven hundred. And you pay utilities and food, so keep that in mind when picking something. Some places will include utilities in the rent, but that's not too common anymore. While we're looking, me and your mom will point out some things to pay attention to. Pick what you want, but remember, once we secure it, it's secured for at least a year."

Fortunately for the excited couple, Mr. and Mrs. Evans had gotten an apartment listing booklet from the grocery store, so they had an idea of places to visit. Mrs. Evans had ripped out the pages that had ads for Lima Heights and promptly shredded them. After Sam's incident, there was no way she'd to be able to sleep at night with her boys living in the ghetto.

-ooo-

The small group spent all afternoon examining apartment after apartment. It was tedious work, albeit fun. A couple of places looked decent, but were in relatively less desirable neighborhoods. One was a condo that turned out to be way out of their price range. Another was a one bedroom that was way too small for two teenagers to live in comfortably. There were several others, but it was the very last one that they fell in love with.

The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, and the complex had a gated parking lot for tenant's cars. The apartment they wanted was on the top floor the fourth. It had a small balcony (in other words, just big enough for two chairs and a small two by two table), two bedrooms with a bathroom between them, a large living room, and a relatively large kitchen. It was perfect.

"I want  _this_  one! Can we please have this one, Sammy, please?" Rory begged upon inspecting the apartment.

"Well who can resist  _that_  face?" Sam asked, looking at his boyfriend giving him the most adorable puppy dog eyes. "I like this one, too."

"It's a nice place, son. Real nice. And just within the price range. Five bucks to spare. We can afford a cheeseburger on that," Mr. Evans replied with a grin.

Rory was all smiles, walking from room to room, looking over it again and again. "Oh I love it! Can we get this one, Sammy?"

Sam smiled and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend. "Yeah. I like this place. It's perfect." He turned to his parents and addressed them. "We want this one. It's exactly what we want."

Mr. and Mrs. Evans smiled widely, agreeing with their choice. It really was a great place for the price. They went downstairs to the main office and told the landlord they had made their decision. It was time for the absurd amount of paperwork that would secure the two boys their new home.

-ooo-

Sam stacked another box on top of the bed, taping it up and writing on the outside in thick black marker; DVDs.

"I didn't realize just how many of these damn things I had," Sam observed, pulling the box back down and setting it with the others on the side of the room. They had been packing little by little all week, anxious to be ready to move in on the first. It was Thursday, and Sam wasn't about to ask for time off work, so they wouldn't get everything in right away. The plan was to get the mattress in the apartment so they could at least sleep in the place until the weekend, when they would bring in the remainder of whatever they hadn't brought after school and work.

"At least mine are all in a notebook," Rory pointed out. He kept a thick notebook that held every DVD and CD he owned for much easier porting around. He had suggested the same to Sam, but Sam insisted on keeping the boxes particularly for special editions.

Stacy and Stevie had been sulking around the house all week, disappointed that their brothers were leaving them behind. Sam had actually sat down with them and explained what was going on.

"When you're my age, you'll be ready to go live with your boyfriend or girlfriend, and make your own home," he had said. Stacy demanded to know why they had to go have a home somewhere else, so Sam went on to explain that every couple needed to start a home of their own, away from their parents. She wasn't satisfied with that answer but it would have to do for the time being.

Stevie tried to be more understanding. He was sad they were leaving, but he also wanted to spend as much with them as he could before they left, so he helped them pack boxes the best he could. In fact, it was he who had packed up the box of DVDs and the box of CDs.

"Sammy, are you gonna come visit a lot?" the young boy asked. Sam ruffled his hair as he walked toward the closet.

"We'll visit often, yeah. We're just going across town, we aren't leaving Lima altogether. You know, without me here, when dad isn't home, you're man of the house. You have to take care of mom and Stacy," Sam said, hoping to make his little brother feel important.

"I'll do a real good job, Sammy. I'll take good care of all of us. Dad, too," the boy promised.

Rory felt bad for the kids; of course, he also felt bad for Sam for having to leave them, but—having left Ireland and his entire family twice already—it seemed easier to leave here and go to their own apartment. He would miss Mrs. Evans' home cooked meals, and the kids running about crying 'Mr. Rory! Come play with us!' but it was time for them to start their own life together, as early as it was.

Their friends for the most part were supportive of their venture to living in their own place. Sugar didn't understand why they didn't just get a house, but her perception of expenses was a little off. Artie voiced his opinion that they were going far too fast and it was too much pressure on them both for the time they were at in their lives. Blaine and Tina were excited because it meant they got to organize a housewarming party when the apartment was set up.

"Do ye' wanna get a house?" _Rory asked out of nowhere.

"Huh? A house? We just got an apartment, we can't afford a house," Sam replied, confused as to where this sudden question was coming from.

Rory laughed. "I don't mean right now. I mean in the future. After I finish school and 'ave a job and money and we're completely on our own."

Sam scratched his head, feeling silly for not picking up on that right away. "Sure. I mean, if you want to. I think it'd be nice. I doubt we could afford anything big, but I think a nice little house would be great." He put his arm around the teen and kissed him on the forehead.

"I think we should work toward that, like a long term goal or something. Not waste a lot of money after we make our apartment look nice. Save up some money so when we can get the house, we can buy some nice things for it."

"That sounds great. A future to work for. Let's get through this first, though. It's not exactly going to be easy moving all this stuff," Sam said.

There were only a few more things they needed to pack up mostly clothes and computer accessories. October thirty-first they could finish packing the clothes and take those over with the mattress so they would be able to stay overnight. Once the weekend hit, they could get Sam's desk, dresser, bed frame, and night stand. They'd be using lawn chairs and boxes for the remainder of their furniture until they could afford real stuff, but the whole thing was exciting. It was really happening and the boys couldn't be happier.

-ooo-

November first finally arrived. They had to wait until Sam got off work to use his truck to transport the mattress and their first round of boxes. Mr. Evans assisted the boys in toting the mattress upstairs to their empty apartment. They plopped it down in the middle of what was to be their bedroom, along with three boxes containing clothes, toiletries, and bedsheets. The hooked up a small lamp for light and plugged in their laptops to charge and to watch a movie on later.

Without furniture in the apartment yet, they weren't ready to do any heavy unpacking of clothes just yet. They dug out clothes for the next day, put away most of the toiletries, and made up the bed.

Before it got too late, they ordered a pizza and a two liter, having their first 'meal' in their new home. They sat on the mattress and watched  _Blade Runner_  on Sam's laptop while they ate in blissful silence.

Thanks to Mrs. Evans, they already had curtains up. She had come over earlier in the day and installed them, along with blinds. That was her 'motherly touch' as she called it, resigning to let the boys handle everything else. Well, except maybe the kitchen, but only if they asked her for assistance.

"We're all alone… in our new apartment… total privacy…" Sam said with a mischievous tone. A smile started to turn up on his face as he spoke. "I guess we don't have to wear anything to bed anymore, huh?" With a wink he disrobed, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor. Rory smiled as he took in the sight of his boyfriend, completely nude. Sam walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth, Rory joining him moments later, having lost his own clothing, and taking control of his own toothbrush.

Minty fresh, they crawled under the sheets, Sam double checking the alarm clock and turning out the lamp.

"Good night, Sammy," Rory said softly, nuzzling up against him. "I love ye'."

"I love you, too," Sam replied happily. He ran his hand along Rory's back, tracing invisible lines up and down his spine. He heard his boyfriend slow his breathing a sign he was about to fall asleep.

"Hey, hey, hey now, you can't fall asleep already. Not on our first night here!" Sam exclaimed playfully, using his free hand to run a finger along Rory's chest, down his abs, toward his groin.

The younger teen giggled as Sam's touch tickled him, sending little sparks of arousal to his crotch. Sam had moved his other hand from Rory's back down to squeeze his firm rear, causing a light moan from the boy.

"I'm tired, though," Rory teased in a whiny voice. It was true, he was tired, but he agreed with Sam it was almost a requirement for them to 'christen' their new home.

"You don't feel tired to me," Sam cooed in his ear, placing his hand on Rory's hardening penis. "Nope, not tired at all. In fact I'd say you're plenty awake." He continued to tease the boy, running circles over the head of his leaking dick with his thumb. The younger teen was letting out soft whimpers as the sensations sent waves of pleasure through his shaft toward his balls.

"Ye'r such a tease, Sammy," Rory said brokenly. He felt Sam teasing his slit, then agonizingly slowly pulling back his foreskin and sliding it up and down.

"Still tired?"

"No…" the boy breathed lightly. "Ye'r just making me want ye' so much," he added. "It's been a little while, hasn't it?"

Sam growled slightly. "Oh yes, too long for my liking." Rory chuckled, knowing it was driving Sam crazy that they hadn't had sex in a week. They had both been so tired, and when he was too tired, Rory gave poor oral and couldn't tolerate taking Sam's big member inside of him.

"Ye' gotta get me ready, though. Get me  _really_  wanting ye'."

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard you say the word horny. I want you to say it. Now. I want you to tell me that I have to make you so horny, you're begging for it," Sam taunted. He loved getting Rory to talk dirty; it was a side of the teen that was fully open, primal, a side of him that let his desires take over and let himself relax.

Rory hesitated, but Sam was doing a good job of getting him going. He was stroking him, teasing his slit, and not only grabbing his ass, but teasing the rim of his hole with his finger as well.

"Oh god Sam, ye' make me…"

"Say it…" Sam urged. "Tell me." He sped up his stroking just a little, just enough to get the boy going a tiny bit more.

"Sam, ye' make me so  _horny_  for ye'. I'm so, so horny for ye'. I want it. I want it so bad, Sam."

The blonde let a grin slip from his lips. "You want what? Tell me, what do you want from me?" He loved making the teen describe these things to him, to ask for them, to beg for them. It was a different side of Sam, a side he only showed on occasion. The majority of the time, he preferred more romantic sex—sex where they were completely equal in their euphoria; every now and then, though, if he was incredibly horny and knew Rory was, too, and if he knew they could use a primal release, he would go in this direction instead.

"I want…" Rory breathed. "I want… ye' to… I want to… I want to suck ye'." It always took him a few minutes to let himself relax enough to talk dirty the way Sam liked. He often felt kind of stupid, like a bad porno, but once they got going, he let himself go.

"Wanna suck my dick, huh? Good. I want you to," Sam said, laying back with his hands behind his head. "Go ahead. Get it real good and wet because I know what you want next, right?" The brunette nodded his head, smiling. "Well say it. What do you want next?"

"I want ye' to fuck me," the teen admitted. His inhibitions were leaving him; he was about to let himself say things he would be embarrassed to think about later. In a way he was glad they only did this on the rare occasion the physical pleasure was so good, but the dirty talk just made him feel silly. It got Sam going, though, and he had to admit it did get him hornier, but he still felt cheesy.

Taking his cue from Sam's relaxed position, Rory got up on his hands and knees, crawling between Sam's legs, spreading them wide for perfect access. He wrapped one hand around the thick shaft and lowered his head down, teasing the very tip with his tongue. He decided he was going to torture his boyfriend with a long, drawn out oral session. Sam wanted him to suck his dick, but he was gonna do it  _his_  way.

Rory licked just around the outside of the head, barely touching the sensitive flesh. He then teased the slit ever so gently, tasting the single drop of liquid forming there.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Sam whimpered as the sensations he felt were just enough to make his dick flex.

"Mmhmm," Rory murmured. He flicked his tongue back and forth and around, pleasuring every bit of the head until Sam was squirming.

"Please, please just suck it, baby. Please…" he pleaded. If Sam was going to goad Rory into cheesy dirty talk, Rory was going to at least get some dirty talk back out of him. He pretended not to hear him, forcing Sam to beg again. "Oh god, please, baby, stop teasing! "

Rory pulled his mouth off of the tip and looked up at Sam's eyes, a primal glow in his eyes. "If I go too fast, ye' might cum and I'm not ready for ye' to cum yet." He grinned and bent his head back down, this time sliding his tongue up and down the hard shaft, causing Sam to shudder.

Sam was about to beg some more when he felt one of his balls being sucked right into the younger teen's eager mouth, his tongue rolling over it and gently applying pressure and tugging. Sam moaned at the sensations shooting into his groin. Rory switched up with the other side. He had tried before to take both in his mouth at once, but Sam's balls were too big to fit both. He tried once again but to no avail.

Sam put his hands behind his head again, relaxing now that Rory was putting his mouth to better use. He felt his entire cock being enveloped in warm wetness. He could feel saliva running down his shaft, tickling him.

"Oh god that's better. So much better," Sam breathed. Rory didn't even attempt to say anything, he just kept rubbing his tongue against the throbbing shaft while bobbing his head up and down. "Can you… can you swallow it all, baby?" Sam asked, halfway teasing, halfway concerned he might hurt him.

Rory mumbled something but it was completely indecipherable. It sounded alright, though, so Sam did something he had been wanting to try but was afraid to do before. He unclasped his hands from behind his head and placed on palm on the back of Rory's head and pushed down all the way.

The teen wasn't expecting that, and at first gagged a little at the sudden feeling of a large mass plugging up his throat, but after a minute, his jaw adjusted and all he could do was feel the salty goodness of Sam's precum running down his throat. It was the closest thing to a gag reflex he had yet to experience.

"Oh yes, that's it. Swallow up my dick," Sam growled. Rory tried to back off a little bit but Sam's hand held firm. It was only when he could feel the boy's choking that he allowed him to let off. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," the blonde apologized, pulling Rory up and to his mouth for a kiss.

"Ye' didn't hurt me, Sam. I liked it, I just wasn't expecting it so suddenly," the Irishman admitted.

"Good. You can get me back if you want to," Sam replied, scooting down toward Rory's crotch. He was far too horny to take his time teasing he took one look at that glistening, uncut cock and wanted it in his mouth.

Sam placed his lips around the foreskin and pushed his face downward, exposing the glans to his hot mouth. Rory let out a cry of pleasure as he felt Sam's thick lips wrapped around him, his tongue massaging the shaft. He pulled back up so he could tongue the slit, slurping up the precum dripping from it.

Bobbing his head up and down, Sam slid the tender skin along his tongue, the slight tugging sensation sending more shocks of pleasure to Rory's groin. Not wanting to send him over the edge, Sam pulled his mouth away and took not one, but both of Rory's balls in his mouth at once. Having a big mouth had its advantages.

The boy was moaning lightly as Sam juggled him inside his mouth, sucking, tugging, gently squeezing. When he finally stopped, he drove his head down on Rory's throbbing, leaking cock all the way to the base, his nose buried in his dark brown pubic hair.

Sam inhaled through his nose, making a pleased moan. The smell of Rory's crotch was intoxicating. Clean, masculine, pheromonal. It was all he could do to tear his face away and bob his head once again.

The older teen finally pulled his mouth off of Rory's drooling erection and kissed him. "Can you taste yourself, baby? Nice and salty?" Sam asked breathily.

"Mhmm," Rory mumbled. Sam leaned down to kiss him again and again, their tongues wrestling for control. "Sam, are ye' ready to fuck me now?"

Sam grinned wide. "Oh yes. Oh yes. I'm ready. The question is, are  _you_  ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. Fuck me, Sam," the teen replied. "I need it. I need  _you._ "

"One throbbing cock, coming your way then," Sam teased. He reached over to fish around in his duffel bag and pulled out a tube of KY. "You sure you can take it? It's been a little bit," Sam asked.

Rory smiled. "Yeah, I can take it."

Sam slathered his dick with lube, and used his finger to oil up Rory's waiting hole. They were both on euphoria; a good thing since Sam didn't hesitate to push the head of his erection in right away. Rory gasped as he was overwhelmed with a sudden pain.

"Oh god! Oh fuck!" Rory cried out. When he noticed a look of concern cross Sam's face, he reassured him he was fine. "I just need to adjust to it. Damn, ye'r so big, Sam."

"You like it though, don't you, baby?" Sam asked, grinning. Rory nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as his hole started to tire and accommodate the large organ.

"Go ahead," the teen said softly. Sam didn't need to be told twice he pushed in, inch by inch, gauging his pressure by Rory's gasps and moans. He knew the boy's body so well by now: the noises he made when it was too much, or not enough; the moans that told him to go faster, or deeper; and, of course, the whimpers he made before his body tensed up to shoot off a powerful orgasm.

As Sam waited patiently for his younger lover to adjust, he used one free hand to slowly stroke him, taking his mind from the discomfort and bringing it to the pleasure. The boy began to whimper slightly, Sam realizing it was safe for him to pull back and then thrust in again.

Rory's whimpers grew louder and closer together as Sam sped up little by little. "Oh god, Sam! Fuck me hard!" Sam was more than happy to comply, but when he noticed Rory reaching to jerk himself, he smacked his hands away.

"No. I'm gonna fuck the cum out of you, baby," Sam informed him. To make sure he wouldn't touch himself again, Sam grabbed him by the wrists and held him down. "I hope you're ready for this."

"Go for it, Sam," Rory assured him. He may not have said that if he knew just how aggressively Sam was going to pound his hole. His whimpers became full moans, his pleasure mounting high as Sam plowed into him relentlessly. He knew his ass would be sore for days, but it was well worth it.

Rory started to squirm as he felt himself getting closer. Sam held his wrists tight, however, his squirming useless. Finally, Sam felt his hole tighten up, felt his body tense up, and watched as Rory's cock spasmed, sending large, thick ropes of sticky seed up into the air that splattered back down on his abdomen.

Sam wasn't done yet, however. He was on the edge, and within another minute, he was filling the boy up with his own massive load, crying out the other teen's name as he did. When he was done trembling in ecstasy, he sat back on his haunches, leaned between Rory's spread legs, and licked every drop of the teen's cum from his stomach. He then kissed him, seed still on his lips.

"You taste good. Mmmm," Sam purred. Having licked his boyfriend's stomach clean, Sam just curled up next to his Irishman, both of them sated and happy.

"I didn't hurt you right?" Sam asked as they lay there running his fingertips across Rory's chest. The younger teen assured him he was fine. "Promise?"

"I promise, Sammy." Several minutes later, Rory started to mumble something. "I… I kinda like when ye' take control like that," he whispered, his cheeks flushing a bright crimson. Even in the dark, Sam could see the change in shade.

"Why are you blushing?" he asked soothingly.

Rory giggled. "I dunno, I'm just shy to say those things. Like it's strange to like it that way."

"We've done it kinda rough before," Sam pointed out. "You seemed okay then."

"I know, I just… I wonder if it's okay to like it when ye'r rough. When ye' held me down like that. Does it… turn ye' off that I like it?"

Sam laughed. "Heck no. It turns me  _on_."

Rory smiled. "I'm glad. The dirty talk turns ye' on a lot, I can tell. Ye' always get the roughest when ye' make me talk dirty."

"Yeah, I like it. Not all the time though. It's weird, because it's not like the normal you. You'd  _never_  talk like that say those kinds of words and make such demands. It's hot to see that on occasion. We talked about it before, don't you remember?" Sam asked, still trailing his fingers across Rory's bare skin.

"Yeah, I remember. I guess I'm just weird. Like I worry about stuff like that. I don't want to turn ye' off."

Sam hugged him tight. "You could  _never_  turn me off. You know, though, if that dirty talk and stuff makes you feel uncomfortable, we can stop."

Rory shook his head. "No, it's awkward, but kind o' hot, too. And it makes ye' happy. Gets ye' really excited. That gets me excited, too. Anything that makes us both feel good, I want to do."

"Same goes for you. I want to make sure we both feel good, too. I want us to have the best orgasms ever."

"Oh, ye' make me orgasms amazin'. I never felt so good when I played with meself. Even if all ye' do is touch me the same way, it feels more amazing than when I do it."

"Jerking off is  _never_  as good as having actual sex. Especially with you. Did you like me holding your hands down?"

Rory blushed again. "Yeah. I uh… I kinda want to do that again sometime. I liked ye' being in control." Sam hugged him and kissed his forehead. "That's just in bed though. Don't think ye' get to rule o'er me," the boy cautioned.

"Sure thing. Anything for you," Sam replied with a smile. He kissed him on one cheek and caressed the other with the back of his hand. "I love you. I just thought you needed to hear that again before we go to sleep."

"I love ye, too, Sammy. I'm so happy, ye' know," he replied. The pair fell asleep within seconds, Sam's arms still wrapped around him, their bed covered in sweat.

-ooo-

Morning came all too quickly, and Rory was begging to just stay and work on the apartment.

"Mom and dad said you couldn't skip unless you were sick," Sam reminded him. "Besides, I have to work and I want to be here, too."

Rory sighed but then smiled. "Okay, Sammy," he said contentedly. He trotted into the bathroom, Sam staring at his tight rear as he walked. A moment later, he joined his boyfriend, the pair agreeing they had to behave and get ready.

Sam sent Rory a text message around lunchtime, alerting him to the fact he was going to the store after work and to see if Blaine could bring him home after glee club. Rory sent him a reply and grinned as he thought about being able to show his friend his new home, even if it was in disarray.

-ooo-

"Wow, this is cool," Blaine commented as they walked in the door.

"Look around! It's a mess right now, but just look at how nice it is. There's a balcony, and two bedrooms," Rory informed him. Blaine toured the small home, stepping out onto the balcony to check out the view.

"It's really nice, Rory. Cozy."

Blaine walked through the bedroom to check out the curtains Mrs. Evans had put up. He stifled a chuckle when he noticed the mattress on the floor, clothes strewn about the floor and a tube of KY jelly peeking out from under a pair of boxer-briefs. Rory wasn't paying attention so he politely nudged the bottle out of sight with his foot. He knew Rory would be mortified if he realized Blaine had seen such a personal item lying out. He had obviously forgotten about it in his excitement.

"Ye' can come over and hang out anytime ye' want! We don't have much for furniture yet, but once Sam makes some money we can buy stuff," the young teen exclaimed.

"Don't forget that you can get a lot of the small stuff at the housewarming party," Blaine reminded him.

Rory looked puzzled. "It's still fall weather out. Why would we want to warm up the apartment?" he asked, scratching his head.

Blaine chuckled. "No, no, a housewarming party is when you have a get together with all your friends and family. There's food and everyone brings gifts. Practical stuff, like a toaster or a vacuum cleaner. Silverware, dishes, stuff that you need in a new home but don't necessarily have."

Rory's eyes went wide. "Ye' mean someone might give us a couch? Or a desk?" he asked excitedly.

"Not stuff that big. Not unless you're rich. But everyone needs a good toaster or a microwave," the former Warbler replied patiently, a fond smile dancing about his features. "You're so funny, Rory."

The Irishman blushed a little. "I don't mean to be. I just don't always get Americanisms."

Blaine threw his arm around his friend. "That's okay. It's cool. It's  _you_. And you are definitely cool." Rory beamed. It felt good to be admired by an older teenager, someone close to Sam's age.

"Hi honey, I'm home!" came the deep voice of said tall blonde. He was carrying a large box that he huffed through the door. The other two boys rushed over to help him before he dropped it. Inside were several bags of groceries. "Here, this stuff needs to go in the fridge right away," he instructed, pointing to a couple of bags.

Rory sorted through the items fruit juice, soda, milk, grape jelly, mustard, sliced lunch meat, cheese. He popped the frozen pizza and two Hungry Man meals in the freezer, along with a pair of new ice trays. Sam put away the rest of the food a loaf of bread, cereal, granola bars, and—last but not certainly least—a jar of peanut butter. He kept out the peanut butter, pulling open the container and sticking his finger in it, gathering up a large glob of the spread.

"Open up!" Sam called, catching Rory's attention. The teen opened his mouth and Sam stuck in his peanut buttered covered finger and allowed the teen to lick it clean.

Blaine watched the cute sentiment in front of him, a pang of loneliness resonating throughout his chest. He knew his friends didn't mean to rub it in; they were excited and in love, just like he and Kurt were. It just sucked that Kurt was so far away, and that he couldn't have the little intimate moments such as this. Blaine didn't want to upset them, however, so he just smiled blandly.

"Hey, uh… Blaine… do you mind, do you think you could, you know, maybe give us a hand this weekend? We're gonna be moving the little bit of furniture we have and the rest of the boxes and it would be  _really_  helpful if we had your SUV to pack up," Sam asked. He hated asking favors, but this was a necessity.

"Oh, sure! No problem. I'd love to help get you guys settled in. It's good practice for when Kurt and I get a place someday. Besides, the sooner you get set up, the sooner you can have that housewarming party I was telling Rory about," the gelled brunette replied.

Both Sam and Rory smiled appreciatively at him. "We don't have much for food, but if you wanna stay for a sandwich…" Sam trailed off.

Blaine shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, thanks. But then I need to get home. I have some homework to get done, and you guys have stuff you need to do here," he said. "I'll definitely help you this weekend though. Promise."

Rory quickly threw together three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while Sam opened up the cans of soda. After a quick meal and a few laughs, the trio exchanged hugs and the new apartment owners bid Blaine a good night.

"Ye' know, Sammy, I can see he hurts," Rory stated once the door had shut behind the ex-Warbler. Sam cocked his head. "He misses Kurt. He really needs us right now, ye' know? Like we said before? I like Blaine, and I don't want to see him hurtin'."

Sam hugged him and kissed his forehead. "And that, my dear boy, is why I love you. Always looking out for everyone else. We'll have to make sure we include him in stuff, and try to have someone else over too, so he doesn't feel like a third wheel." Sam smiled, going on to explain his comment to his clueless boyfriend; the Irishman failed to see what was wrong with having three wheels.

-ooo-

Saturday finally arrived, which meant some heavy-duty work for Sam, Rory, Mr. Evans, and Blaine. Mrs. Evans stayed home with the kids; they were determined to be sad that their big brother was really moving out for real.

There wasn't an abundance of furniture their bed, a large dresser, a night stand, a desk, a TV stand, and a large media shelf. Thanks to Blaine and his SUV, they were able to minimize the number of trips back and forth.

The hardest part was lugging everything into the elevator of the apartment building and then carry it all down the hall to the front door. It took all four of them to get the pieces of the bed frame upstairs, but everything else was much easier.

"I still can't believe my baby boy is growing up and moving out on his own," Mr. Evans muttered playfully, giving Sam a nudge.

"Dad! Stop that! I am  _not_  a baby anymore!" Sam protested. Blaine and Rory were laughing hysterically as they received dirty looks from their blonde comrade.

"You boys got it from here? I mean, you don't need any more help with anything?" Mr. Evans asked, almost sad that he knew what their answer would be.

Sam shook his head. "Naw, I think we got it all, Dad. All the furniture is in place, the rest is just putting away our stuff. That shouldn't take too long. We don't have much."

"Yet," Blaine added. He turned to Mr. Evans. "Tina and I are taking charge of planning the housewarming party. By the time that's over, these guys will have everything they need."

Sam's dad threw an arm around Blaine. "Looks like you boys have one hell of a friend here."

"Yes, sir. He's awesome to us," Rory agreed. "Me and Sammy's best friend really."

Blaine was blushing crazily. "Guys… stop…" he said quietly, unsuccessfully trying to hide his embarrassment.

Mr. Evans smiled, then pulled out his wallet, searching for some cash. "Here, you guys treat your friend here to dinner tonight. I think he earned it." The older man handed Sam a fifty dollar bill.

"Really, you don't have to Blaine started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Ah hush, kid. Take a free meal, didn't your folks teach you that?" Mr. Evans chuckled. "You guys need a break. Go out to BreadstiX or something: relax for a while.

Blaine wanted to protest out of politeness, but Mr. Evans wasn't having it. He noticed Blaine about to speak and held up his hand to keep him silent. "I'm gonna head on home. Your mom should be making dinner soon and she promised me a nice big steak tonight."

"Are ye' sure it was wise to move out, Sammy?" Rory joked. "A steak sounds good."

Sam nudged him in the side. "You can get a nice juicy steak at BreadstiX. Thanks, dad, we appreciate it." Sam wrapped his arms around his father. "Thank you, for everything."

"Thank ye' so much, Dad," Rory added, also wrapping his arms around him. Mr. Evans' heart warmed every time Rory called him by the nickname he requested. The kid may as well call him dad he was all but married into the family at this point.

Mr. Evans thanked Blaine one more time, shaking his hand, and then walking out the door, giving one last look back at his sons. When he shut the door, he finally allowed himself to sigh, a tear falling down his cheek. It seemed like only yesterday he was bouncing his baby boy on his knee, and now, here he was: graduated, moving out with his boyfriend of a year; leaving the nest. He put up a strong face but he was just as sad as his wife to see their son go.

-ooo-

The very next Saturday was when Blaine and Tina had planned the housewarming party. Sam and Rory had gone through the apartment, making sure everything was in order for their guests to see. It didn't take that long since they didn't have much, but the little bit they did own looked perfectly in place.

Sam had considered asking his parents to borrow some of their deck chairs, but Rory insisted that there was a certain charm in sitting on the floor. "E'eryone should see it as it really is. This is where we live. It isn't elegant and it isn't luxurious, but it's ours and it's how we live. Let them see that," Rory had said.

Blaine and Tina had brought over some food mostly snacks (chips and dip, vegetable tray, sodas and juice, crackers with a cheeseball, and a few other small finger foods) since they hadn't yet gotten a microwave or any cookware. Sam had picked up a single pot and a frying pan for cooking, but that was it so far.

The guest list was modest. Besides the boys and the party planners, Artie, Sugar, Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury, Sam's mom and dad and siblings, and Mr. and Mrs. Pierce; that was it. Good thing, too, since the small apartment wouldn't hold anyone else.

The best part of the entire event was the gifts. Everybody knew that the point of a housewarming was to help the new tenants with things they might need but didn't yet have. A nice pile of gifts sat against the far wall, waiting to be raided.

Sam and Rory sat next to the pile and began opening packages, amazed by the things their friends had bought them. Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury had bought them a nice set of cookware three different sized pots, three pans, two baking sheets, and utensils for cooking. Artie decided to be the most practical and provided a small vacuum cleaner.

"Any other time, I would take this as a way to say 'Sam, you suck,' but I think this time I'll say thanks," Sam joked, hugging his friend.

Sam's dad and Mr. Pierce had disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a small table with four chairs. The Pierce's were more than happy to help the boy who had, at first, been their exchange student as well as a friend to Brittany.

Blaine supplied dinnerware enough plates, bowls, dishes, and silverware for four place settings. To complement the dinner settings, Tina had brought a set of Tupperware containers with various sized plastic containers and bowls.

Sam's parents had sprung for a larger television set for the living room forty-seven inches, with a small wooden TV stand. Strangely enough, Stacy and Stevie had the money to give them a microwave, refusing to mention exactly where they got the cash (but which amounted to several months' worth of their allowances combined). Mr. and Mrs. Evans insisted it didn't come from them, they just went to the store to pick it up.

Lastly, Sugar stood up, as she always did when she had something important to say. "Well, Sam, Rory, if you expect me to come over and visit sometime, I can't possibly be expected to sit on the floor all the time," she said, pulling out her cell phone and pressing a few buttons. "That's why I got you this," she added just as the doorbell rang.

A man in a uniform stood at the door, holding a clipboard. "Is this the Evans-Flanagan residence?" the man asked, noting the crowd inside.

"Yes, can I help you?" Mr. Evans asked, having answered the door, a look of confusion on his face and he looked back and forth between the man and Sugar, who was beaming.

"Come on in, boys! Right over here," the girl instructed, waving in the man. He had two helpers with him, also in uniforms. They were carrying, of all things, a small couch. They could barely make it through the door, the crowd parting like the sea as they navigated their way to the living room.

"Sugar, what's going on?" Sam asked, just as confused as everyone else.

"I told you, I can't sit on the floor when I visit. Neither should anyone else, so you need a place for your guests. A couch is just what you need," she said brightly.

"But, Sugar, this is too much," Rory protested, moving out of the way as one of the men backed up toward the wall.

Sugar smiled. "Oh no, too much would have been an entire furnished home, but daddy said that was overkill. Trust me: this isn't much when you're rich."

"This good?" the first man asked to anyone who was paying attention.

"Uh, yeah, that's fine," Sam answered, still stunned. The man handed him the clipboard, pointing to where he needed to sign. The three men excused themselves and left, the new couch in place.

Sugar wasted no time in trying out the new furniture, plopping down in the middle of the couch. "Oh this is perfect! Nice and cushy! Try it!"

Sam and Rory looked at each other and shrugged. They plopped down right next to Sugar, finding the couch was absurdly comfortable. Sam secretly wondered if she would have been so generous if it was anyone other than Rory who everyone knew she had a slight crush on.

"Thank ye', e'eryone. This is so amazing, all this stuff. It's so much!" Rory said, looking around the room at the smiling faces. "And thank ye' to Blaine and Tina for plannin' the whole thing."

"Yeah, thank you all  _so_  much," Sam added. "This really means a lot." The two boys went around the room, hugging and thanking everyone individually, Sugar on cloud nine as Rory gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Blaine stayed behind to help them clean up just glad to have some company for a little while longer.

"Ye' just don't know how much all this means to us," Rory told him, hugging him again, Blaine's hands still dripping wet from the dishes he was washing. "It's our own little home now. Thank ye' for putting it all together for us."

Blaine smiled at the appreciation. "I'm just glad I could help you guys out. Starting out has got to be hard."

"You got that right," Sam chimed in from the living room, sprawled out on the couch. "I still can't believe she got us a  _couch_." He closed his eyes, basking in the comfort of the cushions. "Thank god she has a crush on you, Ror."

Rory blushed. "Sammy, don't say that. I don't wanna toy with her heart like that."

"Kidding!" Sam defended. "But as long as she knows you're off the market, if she still wants to be generous…"

Rory looked at Blaine confused at Sam's declaration. "But I'm not at a market, I'm at home," he said innocently. "It's pretty late to be at a market anyway, and-"

Blaine put his hand on Rory's arm and chuckled. "He means that you aren't available. That you have a boyfriend. 'Off the market' is just an expression." Rory blushed again at his blunder, wondering if he would ever get the hang of American slang.

It was around midnight when Blaine finally went home, the trio having resorted to playing video games for entertainment. Blaine wasn't much of a gamer, but he still had a good time helping Sam get his ass kicked in  _FIFA_.

"Come to bed," Sam called from the bed. He was sprawled out on the sheets, naked and waiting for his boyfriend to join him. "I can't sleep if you aren't in here. I have to snuggle you."

"Let me finish brushing me teeth," the teen said, pausing to spit in the sink. When he stood up straight again, he looked in the mirror, not seeing the little kid that he used to be, but seeing the adult that he almost was. He was only sixteen, but in the past year alone he had conquered so much, and now he was living on his own, with Sam.

"Come on, hurry up!" Sam whined. Rory giggled from the bathroom, taking his time to come back to the bedroom, slowly pulling off his underwear and kicking them off. As soon as he sat on the bedside, Sam grabbed him and pulled him into his arms, nuzzling his chin on Rory's shoulder. Within minutes, the pair was asleep.

 


	33. Episode 33: Gobbler's Knob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Sorry for the delayed post, I got a little bit of writer's block and laziness and uhm yeah my bad. ^_^  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  The Evans parents and the Flanagan parents got together and decided to rent their boys an apartment, giving them a little more freedom, but also extra responsibility. Their friends put together an awesome housewarming party and gave them some awesome goodies and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 33: Gobbler's Knob**

Rory had decided earlier in the week that he wanted to have his host parents over for dinner – an actual meal, not snacks like at the housewarming party. Sam agreed that they should have a special dinner without the kids: just the four of them.

Friday afternoon, Blaine dropped Rory off from school, and he set right to work. The night before, he and Sam had gone through the entire apartment, making sure everything was in order. Now that they had a couch, a large TV, a table and chairs, and other things they got from the party, they could actually have everything looking nice. It wasn't perfect – they still needed décor, better lighting, a coffee table, and other small decorative pieces of furniture – but it was their home.

"Sammy, go shower, they'll be here at seven and ye' look a right mess," Rory said as the blonde came up behind him, strong arms wrapping around his waist as soft kisses were planted on his neck. He was busy pouring the thick brown batter from the bowl he was holding into a disposable baking tin, smacking Sam's hand as he reached to dip a finger into it to taste.

"Damn, first you insult me, and now you beat me. Domestic violence and we haven't even been here a month yet," Sam joked. "What are you making?"

"Don't worry about it, it isn't black pudding. Now go get lookin' nice for mum and dad." Rory took the spoon from the bowl and used it to smooth over the top of the batter, then stuck it in his mouth. He bent down to open the oven and place the dish inside, then stood back up and teasingly licked the remainder of the thick paste from the back of the utensil.

Sam grinned at his boyfriend, pleased that he was so happy in their new home. Rory had slipped into a domestic role almost automatically, keeping things looking nice, taking care of laundry, and doing some of the cooking. The Irishman's theory was that, if Sam was getting home later than he was and making the extra money, it was the least he could do to keep up with the chores.

The part time job Mrs. Evans had secured for him didn't start until after the Thanksgiving holiday, so soon both of them would be working and bringing in a little extra cash. In the meantime, he was the primary domestic.

About twenty minutes later, Sam wandered out of the steaming bathroom, still toweling off his hair. Once he'd dressed himself appropriately, the blonde met Rory in the kitchen. "Your turn, babe."

"No sneaking a taste of what's sittin' in the microwave. Let it be, Sammy," the Irish boy ordered, looking the blonde directly in the eyes. "It's a surprise." Sam nodded, pouting lightly—though he knew it wouldn't work on Rory when the other teen's mind was set—and was given one more glare of warning as the boy disappeared into their bedroom. Looking for something to do, he set the table, sat on the couch and turned on the TV.

No sooner had Rory returned from freshening up than the doorbell rang. Sam clicked the TV off and joined his boyfriend to answer the door. They were both grinning as Mr. and Mrs. Evans were welcomed inside.

"Wow, you guys made this look really nice in here. The furniture looks beautiful and it looks like a real home," Mrs. Evans said, looking around. They hadn't seen the apartment since the party and hadn't seen everything set up.

"Brought a little something for tonight," Mr. Evans said, handing Sam a small bag. Inside were four wine glasses and a bottle of champagne. "You aren't driving, and it's a special occasion. I think you boys are allowed to cheat a little tonight," he said, winking to his son. Sam shook his head, smiling, and added the glasses and bottle to the table.

"Smells good in here. What's cooking?" Mrs. Evans asked, sniffing the air.

Sam beamed, looking at Rory. "Well, our chef over here made something special, but he won't tell me what it is. He promised me it wasn't black pudding though, so I think we're safe.

"What's black pudding?" his father asked, screwing up his face.

"Don't ask. It'll ruin your appetite," the younger blonde warned, swallowing down the icky feeling he got just thinking about the stuff. His father shrugged and sat down at the table.

Rory instructed their guests and Sam to get comfortable while he made up their plates. He served all three of them, setting his own plate down for last. Everything smelled fantastic.

"What is all this?" Mr. Evans asked, not recognizing any of the dishes. Sam shrugged.

"Irish food. Plenty of potatoes, some beef, vegetables. I promise it's nothing that will kill ye'," Rory answered, smiling. "Just try some. If Sammy can survive a week on Irish food, anyone can."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" the older teen exclaimed, feigning offense. "I liked most of it, just not that black glop."

The Irishman nodded. "Yeah yeah, ye' did good, Sam." To his surprise, just as Mr. Evans was about to take a bite, Sam stopped him.

"Hey, hey, hold up. Prayer first, right Rory?" Sam announced, answering the questioning look on his father's face. "Just following tradition in the Flanagan family. Prayer before each meal," he added. "So, uh, dad, how about you go this time? Being the oldest here and all."

Mr. Evans gave him a strange look. He didn't know any prayers for eating aside from 'Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub, yay God', but somehow he felt that might not be appropriate.

"I'll give it my best shot, son," the oldest guest replied. Everyone bowed their heads as he spoke. "Uh, heavenly father, thank you for this food that our sons so graciously cooked for us, and thank you for guiding Rory in not making whatever that black stuff is they keep talking about. Uh, protect our boys and thank you for everything. Amen."

"Amen," everyone else echoed, biting their lips to stifle laughter.

"That was amazin'," Rory complimented, stifling his own giggles. "Me pap would be proud of the effort."

Mr. Evans proposed a toast to the family, their glasses clinking as they shared in the bottle of champagne. With that, it was time to dig in. The food not only smelled delicious, but it  _tasted_  delicious, too. Mrs. Evans was most impressed, especially since Rory didn't have a lot of cooking experience. After she relayed her thoughts to the aforementioned teen, the Irishman responded that his mam had taught him over the summer how to make some Irish dishes.

"Okay, what's this secret dish you've been hiding in that microwave all evening?" Sam asked, stuffed with seasoned potatoes and meat. Like a typical teenager, he'd eaten only half of his vegetables.

Rory grinned and ran off to the kitchen, returning with what looked like a dark brown loaf of plain pumpernickel bread. "This is an Irish chocolate potato cake," he announced, setting the plate down in the middle of the table.

"Rory's potato cakes he makes for breakfast sometimes are really good, so this has got to be-" Sam was saying, reaching for the knife, but Rory smacked his hand away. "Hey, what gives? I've been waiting all afternoon," the blonde pouted.

"Mum first, then Dad, then ye'. Guests and ladies first," Rory corrected him. "Ye'r tummy has made ye' forget ye'r manners tonight," he teased. Sam blushed, realizing that he had indeed forgotten his southern hospitality.

"I was just gonna cut Mom a piece, that's all," Sam recovered, picking the knife back up, Rory rolling his eyes affectionately at Sam's attempt to make up for poor manners. Sam sliced her a hearty piece of the chocolate cake and set it on her plate. He then served his father, then Rory, and lastly, himself.

Everyone was quiet save for the 'mmm' of pleased taste buds as they enjoyed the chocolate cake, the sweet, earthy taste filling their mouths.

"Oh my goodness, Rory, this is wonderful!" Mrs. Evans exclaimed. "I have to get the recipe from you."

Rory laughed. "Sorry, I can't give it out, Mum. Me mam has a secret recipe we keep in the Flanagan clan."

"Okay, well you two had better get married so I can be counted in the family! I want that recipe," she said. Sam and Rory both blushed and gulped. Marriage seemed like something far off in another world, but in reality, it was something they would need to think about at some point.

After the meal was finished, Sam cleared the table while his parents and boyfriend retreated to the couch. He joined them a few minutes later, cake crumbs on his mouth giving away that he was snacking on another piece of Rory's chocolate confection.

Sam told them about work, and how it was going. Rory gave them updates on school, and how much he was looking forward to starting work after the holiday. It was a comfortable conversation, but strange only because they had not yet gotten used to the fact that they didn't see each other every day.

After a little more conversation, they watched a movie – a new release that was  _not_  Avatar. It wasn't until midnight that Mr. and Mrs. Evans went home.

"I'm so proud of you, babe," Sam said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. "Our first dinner party and it was a complete success. It's all thanks to you."

Rory blushed, as he always did when Sam gave him complements. "Thank ye', I'm glad e'eryone liked the food. I was worried about that."

Sam kissed him on the cheek. "It was wonderful. Especially that cake. Leftovers for breakfast tomorrow!" Rory smiled and sighed, closing his eyes. "Tired out, huh? Long day for you. Why don't we get you to bed."

The boys went into their bedroom, disrobed, made a detour to the bathroom to brush their teeth, then returned to their room to fall asleep, Sam's arms wrapped around his man.

-ooo-

Rory was just finishing up his shower in the locker room, wrapping a towel around himself, when he overheard two students talking on the other side of the lockers. They were trying to whisper, but doing a very poor job of it.

"What's up with Flanagan? Did you see his shoulder?" one kid asked. "He's got this scar on it. I didn't notice until today when I saw him scratching at it."

"I guess you never heard huh? Even a new kid should know about the big fight last year," the other kid said, his voice a little louder from excitement. "This senior, Azimio Adams, he attacked him in the gym and stabbed him. He tried to kill him!"

"Why? What'd he do to him?" the first kid asked, obviously unaware of the rift between Rory and Azimio.

"Well, word has it that Adams got expelled because of Flanagan and his boyfriend. Something about Adams harassing them and threatening them. Anyway, Adams and a couple of his buddies apparently cornered him and stabbed him."

"Oh my god, it's amazing he survived that," the first kid exclaimed. "Whoa, back up, hold on. Did you say Flanagan and his  _boyfriend_? He's a fruitcake?"

Rory sighed. There would be no peace for him, it seemed. There would always be someone waiting to knock him down. Even though this kid didn't really know him, he was still calling him names, and didn't even care that he was being heard.

"I wouldn't let him hear you say that. He'll tell his boyfriend and he'll kick your ass. You know who Sam Evans is?"

"Yeah, so?" The second kid apparently was dense as a doornail since the first kid had to basically spell it out for him. He still looked around, paranoid, hoping that the Irish boy was nowhere within earshot. He didn't think about the fact that he could still be heard on the other side of the lockers.

"That's his boyfriend. You've  _seen_  Evans, right? How built he is? He can bench press either one of us, no problem. He's got muscles," the first kid exclaimed. "I wouldn't fuck with him."

There was a long pause and then the second kid spoke again. "So wait, Flanagan is dating Evans? What does a jock like that want with some scrawny kid like Flanagan?" The first kid was obviously confused by this declaration, because the second continued. "Think about it. You don't see the jock dating the nerdy girl, he dates the cheerleader with the fine ass and big tits, right? So if a queer jock is gonna date another queer, don't you think he'd at least want one who looked like him?"

"Oh you mean why wouldn't he want another guy who can bench press two people and run a mile in under twenty seconds?" The first kid had no clue how stupid he sounded – it was impossible to run a mile in that short a period of time.

"Yeah. You've seen Flanagan in the showers. That kid's got no muscle. He's scrawny. I mean, he's got strong legs from all that soccer shit, but that's it. Evans would break him in half."

"Eww, gross man. I don't even wanna think about that!" Rory was gritting his teeth with every word the two homophobic teens spoke.

"What? That'd be funny as hell," the second kid laughed. "I mean come on, you've heard of a dude breaking a chick in half with his junk, why not a dude?"

"You're gross, man. Enough of this gay shit. Now that you know, though, watch your junk. He might be looking," the first guy warned. "Might be trying to figure out how to make _his_  look right. You seen that nasty shit?"

Rory's fists were clenched tight, his knuckles white as he continued to listen.  _They have no clue what they're talking about,_  he thought.

"Uh no, what the fuck?" the second guy replied, disgusted. "I don't look at other dude's junk."

The first kid laughed. "I don't usually either, but hard not to notice. Looks like some sort of anteater or something. All that extra… skin. It's gross."

"Oh you mean he isn't circumcised. Who cares? Probably some foreign thing. Quit looking at other dude's junk and you won't have to see it." The pair of teenagers laughed heartily at themselves, their laughter doubling when they heard two slams of a locker – the first when the door shut, the second when a fist connected with it. "Shit, I think that was him. I hope his dumb ass doesn't start any trouble, we were just talkin'."

Rory was furious. These guys who didn't know jack shit about him were talking trash about not only him, but Sam, too. As much as it hurt to hear those awful things about himself, it was the insults about his boyfriend that really got his blood boiling.  _Nobody_  should talk about Sam like that. He was a kind person: a loyal friend, a protector. He never did anything to deserve that kind of garbage. He could always go to Beiste, but the topic under discussion wasn't something he cared to talk about with a female.

"Hey, Rory, what's up?" Blaine asked, noticing his friend practically stomping down the hallway toward his locker. Rory didn't answer, just huffed a deep breath. Blaine touched his arm, urging him to stop. "Hey, wait up. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the Irishman said harshly. He winced at his own attitude, immediately regretting snapping out at his best friend. "Uh, sorry. Just a bad day."

Blaine hugged him tight – longer than friends usually did, but then again, Blaine was a hugger, and he gave  _good_  hugs. They were the kind that made Rory feel secure and safe. The senior seemed to be the only one who could make him feel better when Sam wasn't there to do it. Rory sighed into Blaine's shoulder and swallowed back his frustration.

"Thanks. I needed that," Rory said softly. "I gotta get to class. See ye' after school?"

"Sure…" Blaine replied warily. As he started to walk away, he paused and turned to face his friend. "You know you can talk to me, Rory. About anything. I mean, I know you got Sam and all, but I'm here too." He gave the boy a gentle smile, and then continued down the hall.

Blaine's hug and short conversation had helped to calm his nerves. Rory was still furious and embarrassed, but for now he could calm down and focus on what he needed to do. He could talk to Blaine or Sam later, when he had a clear head.

-ooo-

The silence in Blaine's SUV was awkward. It wasn't the kind of silence people had after an argument, it was the kind where something was wrong but one person wasn't spilling the beans, and this time it was Rory keeping the pot full.

Deciding to be brave and break the tension, as well as taking advantage of having the advantage of Rory not being able to run away from his questioning, Blaine spoke up. "So... you're awfully quiet today." Rory just shrugged. Okay, the subtle approach wasn't going to work.

"I can tell something's wrong, so what is it? Did I do something to upset you? Did Sam?" Blaine asked pointedly. He could hear Rory gulp and let out a long sigh. "It'll help if you get it off your chest."

"I just heard some things in the locker room, that's all," Rory replied softly. "Mean things."

Blaine arched an eyebrow. "What kind of things? About you? Or about Sam?"

Rory averted his eyes, refusing to look over at his friend. "Both." The bowtied teen urged him to go on. "A couple of guys. Calling us queers, like we're strange or something. I didn't understand they meant because we're gay until they mentioned us dating."

"People can be real jerks, Rory. I've put up with my share of homophobes, too, and the best thing to do is just ignore it," Blaine offered.

"That wasn't what bothered me so much..." Rory trailed off.

Blaine waited a moment to see if his friend was going to elaborate, but the Irishman wasn't forthcoming with any additional information, he pressed on. "Well, what was so upsetting?"

"I'm too embarrassed to say," the younger teen admitted.

The senior gave his friend a soft smile before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "It's okay, Rory, you can tell me. You know I won't judge you."

Rory was silent for a few minutes, debating in his head whether or not to disclose such personal information. This was Blaine, however, and if he couldn't tell Blaine, then what kind of friend was he being?

"They were saying... they were talking about why would Sam want to be with someone like me," he confessed. The look on Blaine's face asked for him to go on. "Someone scrawny and weak. That he should be with someone more like him, muscled and strong."

"Oh they're full of crap. Sam adores you and considering I know you've had sex plenty of times, he's obviously attracted to you. Sam's not the kind of guy that just sleeps around to get off," Blaine argued, irritated that these brats were being so immature.

"You're not scrawny, either. I mean, you aren't built like Sam, but you aren't a bird either. You're slim, not scrawny. You look great, so to hell with those guys." Rory smiled at Blaine's words of encouragement. He didn't have any doubt that Sam loved him, but he did wonder if Sam found him to be less attractive because of his body, and while he usually dismissed the thoughts as foolish, hearing those same things vocalized by random people was incredibly hurtful.

"They were also kind of making fun of... ye' know, 'me junk'," Rory added, his face flushing deep crimson. Blaine's eyes formed a look of confusion. "Ye' know what I mean. They were sayin' I look funny, because I..."

"Look, Rory, just because you might have a smaller penis doesn't mean anything. Sam doesn't care." Rory couldn't help himself. He burst into laughter at Blaine's misinterpretation.

"No, no they weren't making fun of me size. That's no issue there," the Irishman replied. "I'm plenty big," he added, trying to prove that the boys were wrong even if they  _had_ been talking about that. "They were making fun of me because I'm not circumcised."

"Oh," Blaine replied, turning red in the cheeks. "Oh, well, then they're just stupid. Sorry about that. Size was just the first thing that came to mind. I wouldn't pay any attention to that, maybe they're just jealous or something."

Rory shrugged, trying to regain his composure. "I guess I was just embarrassed about it. Their whole conversation was mean."

"Yeah, well, they're just being stupid. You're awesome, I'm sure your penis is awesome, Sam's awesome, I'm sure Sam's penis is awesome, everybody's awesome," Blaine laughed. "That all sounded so wrong but you know what I'm trying to say." He couldn't believe he just said something so stupid sounding, but when they both started laughing hysterically, his own embarrassment went away.

-ooo-

Rory kicked his feet up on the couch, his laptop open, and the TV playing a recorded football game from Ireland. By the time Sam came home, the game was almost over, the young Irishman scowling at the screen.

"Dammit! United lost! What a Holy show! They're all off their nut!" he exclaimed angrily.

Sam blinked. "Uh what did you just say?" he asked, chuckling.

"I said it was a disaster, they're all crazy!" Rory translated. "Irish slang. For once it looks like ye'r the one confused."

The blonde smiled and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend. "I guess it is my turn, huh? So United lost? That sucks. Maybe next time."

"I wish I could take ye' to a game. A real life football game with Manchester United at the win. I bet that'd be a lot o' fun," Rory sighed. "That costs way too much, though. We need to save our money."

"Some day we'll go. Football isn't going anywhere anytime soon. We'll add it to our bucket list," Sam replied cheerily. "You know, that list of things to do before you die..."

Rory didn't say anything, but simply sat there, looking pensive, so Sam shrugged and went to their room to change into something more comfortable. He came back wearing pajama pants and a tank top. Rory still looked pouty, so Sam slid up next to him and wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder.

They watched a rerun of  _Top Gear_  in silence, Sam sensing from the way Rory was constantly sighing that something was wrong, and it was more than just agitation at the lost football game. "Baby? What's wrong?" he asked.

Rory just sighed. "I'm okay, Sam. Don't worry."

Sam rolled his eyes to himself. "Rory..." he said, his tone gently urging, "what's wrong?"

The teen sighed, knowing that Sam would not relent until he answered. "Just a bad day at school." Sam continued to stare at him pensively, the sign for him to continue. "I o'erheard in the locker room, two guys discussing trash about us."

Sam squeezed his arms around the boy tighter. "Jerks. They didn't try to hurt you did they?" he asked cautiously.

"No. I don't even think they knew I heard them. But they were sayin' all these bad things and it made me so mad." Rory was clenching his fists again, remembering the conversation in his head.

The older teen put his hands over Rory's and rubbed his fists as if to soothe him. "Calm down, it's just boys being dumb." He kissed the beck of his head, nuzzling his nose in Rory's hair. He always smelled like fresh hair gel, but he never used anywhere near as much as Blaine did. Sam was sure that Blaine singlehandedly kept Vidal Sassoon in business; it wouldn't surprise him if the senior owned stock in it.

"They said that ye' shouldn't want a boy like me," Rory stated after several minutes of tense silence. "They said I'm scrawny and weak and ye' deserve someone strong and muscular."

"Psh! I like you the way you are. Nice and lean, huggable, strong enough. You give  _great_  head," Sam laughed, making sure Rory noticed his joke.

"Ye' are not funny Mr. Evans!" the teen protested.

Sam grinned and kissed his head again. "Well, it's true. You  _do_  give really good head. Better than anyone else. But yeah, my point is that I think you're great how you are."

"That's good, because they were making fun of me dick, too," Rory added. Sam looked at him like he was nuts. Rory wasn't as big as Sam, but he was plenty big enough, nothing to laugh at. "They think it's funny I 'ave me foreskin. Blaine says they're just jealous."

Taken aback by the fact that Rory had not only discussed this with Blaine, but also seemed hesitant to bring it up with him, Sam did a double take. "Well, uh, he's probably right. Not everyone can have the perfect equipment like you." As if to drive the point home, Sam reached down and caressed the boy's crotch just enough to get it halfway attentive.

"Well you know what? I think you're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Your body is perfect to me. Next time those jerks want to say crap like that, just remember right now. Remember that I love everything about you," Sam declared confidently.

"Ye' don't e'er wish sometimes that I was more muscular like ye'? Stronger and tougher?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I'm happy with the way you are. Doesn't matter if you get fat, or become a bodybuilder, it's  _you_."

Rory smiled, although Sam couldn't see it from behind. "I guess I let them get to me more than I should 'ave. I just don't want ye' to feel like ye'r being cheated out o' something better."

The older boy grunted. "You let  _me_  worry about that. I don't feel cheated at all. I feel blessed. Quit worrying about what those losers said. If I didn't think you were hot, do you think I would be trying to ravage you every chance I got?"

Sam made a valid point. If Rory wasn't good enough for him, he had no reason to stay with him, and if he didn't find him attractive, he surely wouldn't be as physically affectionate as he was, sexually or otherwise. It all made sense, but it still hurt to hear those things being said about the pair of them.

"Sammy? I'm kind of nervous. What if this is just the start?"

"The start of what?"

"The harassment. People talking. And then pushing me into lockers. It's how it all started with Azimio. Talk," Rory admitted his worry. Even as he said the words he knew he was overreacting, but he wanted,  _needed_  to hear it from Sam.

Sam squeezed him tighter in his arms. "Are you afraid of the big bad bullies might get you while I'm not around?" he teased. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You're tougher than you think. But, if you are really worried about having to defend yourself from violence, you can always do some working out. Or we can sign you up for a self defense class."

"Will ye' do it with me? The class, I mean," Rory asked, interested in the idea of a defense course.

"Yeah. That kind of stuff is usually in the evening, so we should be able to go together. It'll be fun and might make you feel safer, too. Just have a little more faith in yourself, okay? You're hot, hung, and… I can't think of another 'H' to go with that, but we'll add strong to that," Sam declared.

His boyfriend smiled and wiggled down so that his back was in Sam's lap so he could look up at his smiling face. "Ye'r amazing, Sammy."

"You are too. Even if you do get kind of whiny when United loses," the older boy teased. Rory glared at him from below, his smile turning harsh. "Hey, hey, it's the truth! They lose and you get all pouty. It's cute, though."

"Mhmm," Rory mumbled, rolling his eyes. "I want some chicken."

"That was random," Sam replied. He checked the time on his watch and realized it was getting to be about dinnertime. "Okay, let's grab some Chick-Fil-A. You can get a milkshake to ease your pain."

The Irish teen sat up, kissed Sam's thick lips, and got off the couch to slip on his shoes. Fast food chicken wasn't the healthiest meal, but as Sam had said, he needed comfort food for his team's loss.

-ooo-

Thanksgiving break rolled around a lot quicker than anyone expected. It had already been two and a half months since Rory came back, a month and a half since the boys moved into their apartment, and almost two months since Sam got his job with the radio station. Everything was happening so fast and neither of them even realized it.

The week before Thanksgiving, Stacy and Stevie begged to stay at Sam and Rory's overnight. They not only missed their big brothers, but they wanted the privilege of doing something without their parents. To them it was a big deal – they had talked about it nonstop since they were given the green light, five days prior to their visit. They were arriving Wednesday, right before Thanksgiving, and joining the holiday dinner at home with their big brothers in tow.

Not having a spare bed, nor there being enough room in their bed for all four of them, the two children slept in the floor on in sleeping bags. Over the summer, Stacy had gotten a pink camouflage bag that she was incredibly proud of, while Stevie opted for the classic olive drab.

Sam picked them up from his parents' house when he got off work. The four of them went to BreadstiX for dinner, and then came back to the apartment to watch a movie and eat popcorn. When the movie was over, they played  _Mario Kart_  until both children were ready for bed. It was the second time that Sam and Rory felt like full-time parents.

Thanksgiving morning, Rory made breakfast of potato cakes and hash browns, and then he got the kids dressed in the outfits their mother had sent along for Thanksgiving dinner. Stacy had been given a new dress – a child's version of a cocktail dress, making her look very grown up, except for her hair. Neither Sam nor Rory could fix her hair up, so a simple clip to hold back her bangs was all she got.

Stevie, on the other hand, had received a brand new pair of dress pants and a button down shirt. Rory put one of his bowties on the boy, and although it looked a little big, Stevie was thrilled to be wearing something from his favorite friend. By one, all four of them were ready to make their appearance at the Evans home.

-ooo-

The last time anyone had met Rory was at Christmas last year, and everyone had been told he was an exchange student friend of Sam's who needed somewhere to stay for the holiday. This time, it was going to be a little more difficult to explain away that Sam had not only moved out, but moved out and taken his underage friend with him. It didn't help that the children were prone to giving out details they didn't understand were best left out. They'd decided that the best thing—the only thing, really—they could do was to play it by ear.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans gave both of their boys welcoming hugs as the children ran inside to greet their young cousins.

"So, how did the sleepover go?" Mr. Evans asked with a chuckle. "They didn't wreck the place, did they?"

"Nah. They were great. We had fun. I didn't realize just how much I miss them," Sam confessed. "It'd be kinda nice to have them over maybe once a month like this. If you and mom don't mind, I mean."

Mr. Evans smiled warmly. "I think they would love that, and it would give me and your mom a night off. As long as you two can handle the kids on your own."

"I may be out o' practice, but I can still handle the youngin's," Rory interjected. "They're a lot easier to handle than Sammy."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Sam exclaimed, feigning offense. Rory just smiled smugly.

Sam reintroduced Rory to his family, just in case he had been forgotten. His grandparents, aunts, and uncles all seemed to buy the explanation that they were merely roommates, but Sam's older cousin saw right through them.

"I'm not stupid, Sam," Michelle, his oldest female cousin, told him. "Anyone can see you two are a couple. Just tell me I'm right." She had a cocky grin, satisfied in her ability to read her cousin.

Michelle had a knack for being able to spot things other people overlooked. While she was right that anyone with any sense of observation could tell that Sam and Rory were together, she was the only one willing to believe it, or at least say anything about it.

"Yes, we're together. Almost a year now, actually. Even if we weren't, he's my best friend, and he has nowhere else to go for holidays. He'd be here either way," Sam stated confidently.

"Hey, I'm happy for you, Sam. I'm just saying you don't have to hide it. The way you two look at each other, it's love. Anyone under forty can see it," Michelle replied cheerily. She was tall, with light brown hair that fell down her back, with the same brilliant green eyes her cousin possessed. Her stylish glasses, full lips, and heavy eye makeup gave her a very mischievous look, albeit very elegant. She was the kind of woman that drew the attention of men anywhere she went, and once they found out she had a fun loving and flirtatiously-cocky personality, they fell to adore her quickly. She gave Sam a hug, whispering in his ear. "Be yourselves, everything will be fine."

She gave Rory a hug as well, winking at him as she draped her arms over his shoulders. "I swear, Sam, you couldn't have done any better. He's cute as hell. And that accent is to die for. I could totally use an Irish guy to whisper sweet nothings in my ear at night." Rory blushed a deep crimson as Sam threw his arm around him possessively. Despite her forwardness, her friendly manner put Rory at ease, the tension draining from his body.

The three of them talked for a little while longer before it was time to mingle with the rest of the family. Sam was used to Evans family events – they could be kind of boring. His parents were lively, but his grandparents were anything but, and the few other family members were quiet, reserved. Only Michelle and his cousin Edward were as lively as he was, but this year Edward couldn't make it – he was in Arizona, working on a project that he refused to talk about. Edward was the overachiever of the family anyway, not that Michelle was stupid – she was as clever as she was beautiful, but she was much more relaxed and care free.

Sam began to feel nervous when his mother's parents came up to speak to him. They showered him with hugs and asked the standard questions grandparents asked: How are you doing? Where do you work now? How can you afford to move out? Then came the questions about Rory. Why is he here? Who is he staying with? Why is a sixteen year old sharing your apartment?

The blonde teen hated lying, let alone to his family, but then again, he didn't really feel like it was lying if he just left out details. Rory couldn't go home for the holiday. He was staying with their family until Sam decided to move out, and it would be less awkward if his friend stayed at his place. Nobody need know where the money came from, or the intricacies of their lives, such as the fact that they shared a bed and were in a committed relationship. Thankfully, these simple answers pacified them.

Dinner went fairly well. The young people all shared a table, while the older adults shared their own table; there were just far too many family members for them all to sit together. To Rory's delight, one of Sam's grandfathers led the family in a blessing. He intended to pray before his meal either way, but it was much nicer doing it as part of the family.

Michelle sat next to Rory, constantly asking him questions for the sheer purpose of getting him to talk so she could melt at his accent. It was refreshing to be around someone so energetic and lively compared to the mellowed out adult crowd. Stacy and Stevie paid no attention to their older siblings and cousins, playing little games with the other children.

The children all passed out on the couch not long after dinner, the turkey kicking in and sending them to serenity. Others were tiring as well, politely saying their goodbyes and heading back to their respective homes. Finally all that was left was the immediate family.

"Thanks, mom, dad," Sam said, hugging them both. "Dinner was great. It's nice to see you guys again, too." He stood back, looking at them both, no longer as a kid looking at his parents, but as a man looking at equals, even if they were still footing the bill for his rent.

"You know you can come over any time you want," Mrs. Evans said, holding onto her son's hand. "I miss you. Both of you," she added, letting go of Sam and clasping Rory's hand. A tear came to the woman's eye, which she let slide down her face, unashamed of her emotion.

Mr. Evans grinned, cracked a couple of jokes with them, and said his goodbyes as he went to the couch to retrieve the children to put them to bed.

Once the boys had went home, Mrs. Evans let tears fall freely down her face, the realization that her first born was growing up hitting her once again. Despite her strong resolve, especially with her kids, she was still an emotional woman who sobbed unashamed at Sam's graduation, when Rory left, when Sam left and returned from Ireland, and again when Rory returned, and of course when the decisions were made regarding their moving to an apartment. She'd never let the kids know, though. They had to see her as a strong figure. If only she knew just how strong her son perceived her to be because of her emotional side, she wouldn't try to hide it so much.

-ooo-

"Sam? Are ye' awake?" Rory asked lightly as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. He heard Sam yawn and mutter something unintelligible, but at least it alerted him that his boyfriend was indeed awake.

"Do ye' think… do ye' think ye'r family will ever know about us?"

Sam rolled over and nuzzled his head on Rory's chest. "They already do. What are you talking about?" He was partially asleep already, but apparently Rory had something on his mind.

"No, I mean the rest of ye'r family. Grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles. All those people I met tonight. The others I 'aven't met yet. Will they ever know about us?" His voice sounded almost sorrowful, as if he knew the answer and it made him sad inside.

Sam sighed, his hot breath tickling Rory's bare skin. "I dunno. Maybe. If we ever got married, they'd kinda have to I guess."

Rory smiled at the mention of marriage. It was a concept that was far off still, something they would think about years from now. They were just now reaching their one year anniversary in a couple more weeks; marriage definitely needed to wait.

"Ror, what's this all about? I mean why are you asking this stuff? At one AM no less," Sam pressed. He was tired and wanted to get back to sleep, not feeling the least bit introspective at this hour. He hated talking about serious stuff when he was sleepy anyway. Rory knew that, so why was he insisting on discussing this now?

"I uh, I guess I just wish ye' didn't 'ave to introduce me as just ye'r friend. I know, it's stupid, sorry," Rory confessed quietly, leaning his head back all the way and closing his eyes. "Just go to sleep, I'm sorry I brought it up, it's stupid."

Sam sighed again, now starting to just feel annoyed, but nevertheless he needed to make sure they went to sleep without heavy stuff weighing on their shoulders. "No, it's not stupid. You understand though. You have to do the same thing back home."

"No. This is me home. Where I am right now," Rory argued softly, trying to keep his eyes open, but sleep starting to become more insistant. "Really, let's go to sleep. It's silly."

The blonde could tell this was going to be an endless discussion and this was his chance to call it quits for now. He moved his head up and kissed the boy, hugging him tight. "Let's get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Ye'r right. We need sleep. It's late," Rory agreed, closing his eyes again, wrapping an arm around Sam. "I'll make it up to ye', waking ye' up so late."

"You don't have to make it up to me. Just go to sleep," Sam muttered, becoming slightly annoyed.

"No, I'll make ye' some French toast in the morning for breakfast. I saw how to make that in the cookbook ye'r mum gave me."

"Sounds good. Now go to sleep, babe." Rory was about to say something else but thought better of it. He could sense the irritation in Sam's voice and decided it was best to just go to sleep. There wasn't any point in talking about it anyway – it was something that didn't really matter. Not right now anyway.

-ooo-

Thanksgiving break was over, and it was time for Rory to start his part time job. Mrs. Evans had a friend who owned a bookstore, and was in need of some help. The only thing was, not too many people in Lima had an interest in working at a bookstore, particularly young people. When Mrs. Evans asked her friend if she could help out her charge by giving him work and paying under the table, she was happy to oblige, on one condition.

Mrs. Williams wasn't too keen on paying under the table, as she had always been an accounting-minded woman. The risk involved with paying out cash and not paying taxes on it was more than she cared for. Her condition, then, was that she make out Rory's paychecks to someone who could legally work and pay taxes on the money. Sam Evans was the name she stroked on the check from then on out.

Rory's hours would be from three thirty until seven thirty in the evening, still giving him time to get home for dinner and do whatever homework he needed to finish. His tasks were simple – stock the shelves with new books, make sure the ones out there were still filed correctly, catalogue shipments, work the cash register, and assist customers with any questions they had. It sounded like a lot at first, but it really wasn't, and he wasn't there alone.

Blaine dropped him off after school, the teen quite nervous for his first day. He had met Mrs. Williams the Friday after Thanksgiving to discuss his employment, but he hadn't met his coworker, nor had he any experience whatsoever working a register or assisting customers. Mrs. Williams assured him it wasn't difficult, and that they would help him learn the ropes.

When Rory got there, he saw a girl with light brown hair sitting behind the register. She had on thick rimmed black glasses, and her hair was shoulder length, tied into a ponytail. She smiled upon seeing him come in, greeting him with the standard, "Welcome to Gobbler's Knob! Let me know if you need any help." She sounded genuinely friendly, which put him slightly more at ease.

"Uhm, yes, I'm here to start work today. Is Mrs. Williams here?" he said timidly.

The girl's face brightened immensely as she stood up, offering her hand over the counter. "So you're the new guy! She was telling me we were getting someone else to help out. Oh, I'm so excited, it gets lonely in here by myself, and an extra pair of hands is gonna make things a lot easier!" she exclaimed quickly. She was clearly the excitable type, but definitely friendly. "Oh yeah, my name's Ginny. Nice to meet you, Rory, right?"

Rory nodded his head, smiling. He took her offered hand and noticed she had a firm handshake, the sign of a confident person. "Yes, that's right. Rory Flanagan."

"Oh I love your accent! Scottish?" she asked.

"No, Irish. I'm an exchange student. Second year here, I live with-" His words were cut off when Mrs. Williams called out for assistance. She was carrying a box way too heavy for one person and was on the verge of dropping it.

"Oh no, not again!" Ginny cried, rushing over to help. The two women set the box on the ground and slid it across the carpeted floor next to one of the shelves.

Catching her breath, Mrs. Williams greeted Rory, smiling. "I see you've met Ginny. I think you two will get along fine. She'll show you everything you need to know, so if the place burns down, you can blame it on her."

Rory's eyes went wide, wondering if there really was something so dangerous in the shop that it would catch the books on fire. The two women were laughing, so there couldn't possibly be anything too flammable.

"Why exactly is the store called Gobbler's Knob? I don't see any turkeys or doorknobs for sale; just books," Rory asked, finding the name odd since it had nothing to do with books whatsoever, but instead made him think of turkey and Thanksgiving.

Mrs. Williams laughed lightly. "I like the way it sounds. I named it after this family park in Pennsylvania, where I'm from. The fact that it has nothing to do with books makes it all the funnier to me." The grin on her face was slightly eccentric.

"I suppose people wouldn't forget it. A funny name like that would stick in ye'r head for sure. I like it," the teen added, hoping she didn't take it as a criticism. Instead, she simply laughed again and then turned to her seasoned worker.

"Gin, he's never worked a register before, so don't turn him loose on that today. Just show him around, and do me a favor? Unpack this box for me. It's got a bunch of promotional stuff in it for some competition," the older woman instructed.

Ginny saluted her playfully. "Yes, ma'am!" she said. Her salute immediately reminded Rory of Sam and his siblings, always giving their parents salutes when given instructions. He smiled at the thought.

"Well, you kids have fun. I'm going home for the night. If you have any problems, give me a call." She turned to Ginny, reminding her that Rory got off at eight thirty, leaving her to still close up shop at nine by herself. The woman gave them one final goodbye and disappeared into the door she had come out of down the racks.

"Have you ever worked anywhere before, Rory?" Ginny asked him, looking him over thoroughly, as if examining him. He shook his head.

"No, this is me first job. I thought it would be fun," he replied simply. He nervously looked around the counter, observing the various items for sale on the countertop, the register, the posters on the walls and on the lower counter.

Ginny stopped looking him over and grinned. "This job is a piece of cake, trust me. I'll show ya all the shortcuts and everything." Her words still came out of her mouth at a relatively swift pace, albeit nowhere near as fast as when he first walked in. She reminded him a little bit of Rachel and Sugar mixed together, minus their almost arrogant over-confidence.

"How old are you?" the girl asked out of nowhere. The question caught the boy off guard, not expecting to be quizzed about himself.

"Sixteen. Seventeen in February," he answered timidly.

Ginny snapped her fingers as if she were disappointed. "Damn. I was hoping you were older."

Rory looked at her as if she were a little crazy. What did his age matter? Why did he need to be older? She must have noticed his bewildered look because she quickly followed up on her comment.

"Oh, I just mean, well, you're kinda cute, but I'm twenty, so that would never work out. Oh well, never mix business with pleasure anyway!" she said cheerfully. That seemed a little too much for him. He definitely did not expect to be hit on right away, particularly by his coworker. "Oh you're probably attached already anyway. Cute boy like you and all."

His face was turning red with embarrassment, but luckily the spunky girl changed the subject as if she never commented on him in the first place. "I guess we better open this box up first. Mrs. Williams ends up with all kinds of promotional stuff to try and lure in the young people. Students mostly. Let's see what this one's about."

She pulled a razor blade from somewhere under the counter and returned to the box, kneeling down and slicing open the tape holding it shut. Inside were posters, and a load of books. She pulled one out and examined it.

"Rules of Show Choir," she read aloud. "What the heck is that?"

Finally, something he knew about! "Oh, it's a glee club! They sing and dance in competitions to win trophies for their school. McKinley had one until it got shut down," he lamented, slumping his shoulders.

"Why did it get shut down?"

"Not enough interest. Most of the club members graduated last year, and we didn't 'ave enough members left for competition. Ye' need to 'ave twelve at least. We could only get six."

Ginny screwed up her face. "Well that sucks. Nobody would join?" Rory shook his head, then went on to explain about the lack of popularity of the glee club, and the slushies.

"That's a crock of sh- er crap! Nobody should be treating other people that way, and they should let you be a club even if you don't compete, just for fun. Stupid school rules," the girl scowled. Rory nodded in agreement as she unpacked the box, handing him books that he set up on the counter until she told him what to do with them.

"The Glee Club Project," Ginny read aloud as she unraveled one of the posters. "Huh. What's this about? Looks like a glee club contest." She dug around in the box some more, finding a stack of brochures and entry forms. She handed one to Rory and opened one for herself to read.

"The Glee Club Project. An amateur show choir competition. One student per school may participate to represent their club and vie for a guaranteed slot in nationals in May," she read out loud again. "Wow, nationals, huh? Sounds pretty important."

Rory nodded his head. "It's the biggest competition there is. It's out of state somewhere, and only the top clubs from around the country get to compete. One per state. We won fifth last year."

"Wow, really? Amazing! You really should get a chance to go this year and make number one."

"I wish we could, but ye' know, no club, no competing," he replied, his voice laced with sadness.

Ginny scratched her head. "Well… who said you don't have a club? You already got six people, right? It says here this competition is in January. Surely you can find six people by then, right?"

"I… I don't know," he replied, his confidence not very strong. Ginny stood up and clapped him on the back.

"Sure you can! Think about it, Rory. If each one of you can bring one person, there's your twelve. Then  _you_  can go on this competition and win your spot at that nationals competiton!" she said excitedly, poking her finger in his chest lightly as she emphasized 'you'.

"Wait, what do ye' mean  _me?_ " he asked. "I can't go to this, that's crazy!"

Ginny smirked. "Not that crazy, trust me. I've done crazier stuff, and this, kid, is  _not_  crazy. It can't hurt to try, and even if you don't make it, at least you gave it your best shot."

"I dunno…" he said, hanging his head. Ginny bent down and snatched up one of the registration forms and quickly dashed behind the counter again, taking hold of a pen.

"Well I do, and  _you_ , are going to compete," she declared. She started to write on the form. "Rory Flanagan, right? Age sixteen, male. What's your address? Phone number? Come on, come on, don't hold out on me. "McKinley High…. Junior, right?" She continued to scribble down information as he reluctantly gave it to her – his address, cell number, everything she asked for.

"Okay, now we need a picture. Smile," she said, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture before he had time to react. "Perfect," she noted, pushing buttons to e-mail herself the picture.

"Now, let's just print this out…." She mumbled, her hand working the mouse quickly as she pulled up her e-mail on the computer. Within a minute, the photo she snapped of him printed out on the color printer next to the counter. She snatched it up, cut out the image, and paper clipped it to the form. She folded it up expertly, slipped it in the envelope that came with the form, and licked the glue, sealing it shut.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" She held the envelope in her hands, looking from it up at Rory's face, and back. "Better put this in the mailbox myself." Rory watched her as she came from behind the counter, strolled right out the door to the end of the strip and dropped the envelope in the large blue mailbox.

When Ginny returned to the shop, she clapped her hands together triumphantly and smiled. "Well, now that  _that's_  all done, let's get back to work."

Rory was stunned. This girl he had met all of twenty minutes ago had just entered him in a contest that he had no idea if he could even qualify for, let alone win, and she did it as if she had every bit of confidence in the world that he could do it. It seemed psychotic almost, but at the same time… maybe it meant there was hope for the glee club yet.

"You can thank me when you win that competition, by the way," she stated with a grin. Here, help me with this," she instructed, unrolling a poster.

_What did I just get meself into?_

-ooo-

Ginny looked back from the bookshelf she was stocking when she heard the bell on the door jingle. "Hi! Welcome to Gobbler's Knob! Let me know if you need any help!" she said cheerfully.

The blonde man who had just walked in smiled at her. "Actually I'm looking for Rory," he said. "I'm Sam, his roommate. I'm here to pick him up."

"Oh! Okay, I'll get him, he's in the back!" the sprightly girl exclaimed, disappearing behind the employee door.

_She sure has a lot of energy. I hope Rory can keep up with her,_ Sam thought, chuckling to himself. Moments later he saw Rory emerge from the same door Ginny had ducked into. He had his messenger bag on his shoulder, his eyes looking tired.

"Sam, this is Ginny. She's me coworker," Rory introduced. Sam stuck out his hand and shook hers. She had a confident grip, particularly for a girl.

They exchanged quick pleasantries before Ginny bid him goodbye for the night. She winked at Rory as he turned to leave with Sam.  _What was that all about?_  He wondered.

As usual, Sam opened the door for his boyfriend, handing him his bag once he was in the seat and buckled in. Sam could be half dead and he would insist on his chivalry.

"How was your first day? Ginny sure seems nice," Sam asked, starting up the truck.

Rory sighed. "It was great. She's really nice. We had fun, actually. It's just tiring, lifting boxes and stuff," the teen replied. Sam mussed his hair and smiled.

"Welcome to the working world, babe," he teased. Rory rolled his eyes playfully. "Hungry?"

"Yes," the boy replied enthusiastically. "Very!"

"Okay, so what do you want? McDonald's? Arby's?"

"Sammy's," Rory replied. For once, he caught Sam offguard.

"Where is that? Is it new?" Sam asked, genuinely thinking that 'Sammy's' was a restaurant he was unaware of.

Rory burst into laughter. "No, no, no! Sammy's! Ye'r Sammy, ye' dummy!"

Sam blushed, thankful the darkness hid his embarrassment. "Right. I knew that. So what do you want from there?"

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of juice," Rory replied. "No, wait, make it a Cherry Coke. It's been a hard day," he amended after a thought. Sam nodded, making a mental note for himself.

Rory was so tired that he had forgotten to mention to Sam the contest for The Glee Club Project, and Ginny entering him into it. He figured there was no point anyway – there was no chance he would even qualify among all the schools participating. There had to be plenty of better students than himself.

-ooo-

It was Wednesday when Rory rediscovered his entry into the contest for the Glee Club Project. He was pulling out his notebook and the brochure slipped out from between the pages, sliding under Sugar's desk.

Sugar bent down and picked up the brochure, looking at it. She thumbed through the pages, glossing over the description. "What's this for? Are you entering?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rory blushed, having not intended to bring it up at school – or with anyone. His lack of confidence had superceded anything else, and he purposely put it out of his mind, hence why the brochure was still stuck in his bag.

"Well, I uh… I did, but not on purpose," he replied nervously.

The girl looked at him with a questioning gaze. "So an entry form just magically appeared in the mail? I'm lost, Rory."

"I was at work, and me coworker saw it and entered me. I don't think I 'ave a chance though. It's all o'er the state, and only five people make it to the finals," he replied, nodding toward the paper.

Sugar looked thoughtful. "Well, it says here that the winner guarantees that their school makes it to nationals. If you win, we can go," she said simply, as if that was all there is to it.

"But Sugar, we don't even 'ave a glee club anymore. Mr. Figgins shut us down," he argued, frowning.

"It doesn't say you have to meet any club requirements. It just says  _you_  have to win."

Rory shrugged. "But Sugar, read the small print. I'm sure there's rules and regulations about it. I bet we still 'ave to 'ave the required twelve members." He was pointing at the brochure, to the back page where there was a lot of tiny print.

Sugar paid no attention. "It says here that the competition is next year. We have plenty of time to find people. All they have to do is stand there and sway back and forth while you and I sing lead." She winked at him, yet another indication of her little crush on him.

The Irishman blushed once more. "I… I dunno, I don't think this is going to work."

The girl shook her head defiantly. "Oh just go! You can do it, Rory. You're the best male singer in the group, you can win it and we can go to nationals. By the time it all happens, we'll have figured out all the details."

Rory found her enthusiasm endearing, even though everyone knew Blaine was the best male singer in the group – a title that he was not ashamed to give up to his friend. Rory admired Blaine's talent, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would be far better qualified for this important task.

"I think we need to tell the others. Then they'll make you go. I mean,  _we'll_  make you go. You're the best, Rory, you know it," the teen said, batting her eyes at him adoringly. "You wouldn't want to see me disappointed would you? You know I would be if you didn't try."

Rory rolled his eyes playfully. "Fine, we'll tell the others. But I get final say, and  _don't_  tell Sam. Not yet."

"Agreed. And just so you don't chicken out, I'll just hold on to this," she added, slipping the brochure in her purse, her stuffed dog guarding it from him.

The teacher came in and announced the start of the class. Rory held his head in his hands, wondering what he was going to do. Once the rest of the remaining members heard about it, they'd insist he go through with his entry, even if he didn't really want to. But that was just it – he  _did_  want to. Part of him wanted to, really bad. He just didn't think he was ready for it, even if his heart felt differently.

-ooo-

Sugar presented the brochure to their friends at lunch. They passed it around, looking it over. Blaine and Tina seemed supportive and eager for him to go through with it, but ever the cynic, Artie insisted it wouldn't work.

"There's just no way we can get the people together, even that late in the year. We won't have anything ready for nationals. We need the year to practice," the boy announced. "This is huge, there's just no way it will work."

"Artie, be quiet," Tina said, normally the quiet person of the group. She was growing more and more irritated with Artie's constant cynicism. "I think it's a great idea. Even if you don't win, look at the experience. It would be amazing even to audition," she said enthusiastically.

"Exactly," Sugar added. "He should have fun either way, even though I know he'll win."

Rory blushed at her constant gushing over his talent. The girl was hopelessly head over heels for him, even though she knew he would never leave Sam, especially for a girl.

"Come on, Artie, can't you have a little faith? In him, and in us?" Blaine pleaded, giving the boy the lost puppy look he was famous for. "We can try at least. You don't want your senior year to be nothing but lost chances, do you?"

The bespectacled boy mulled it over in his head. It was difficult to put aside his cynical attitude, even for glee. He wanted very much to have the perfect senior year. To go on to nationals and bring back a winning trophy. Figgins had ended that dream, though. There was no way he'd allow them to create the club once again. Even if he did, Mr. Schuester was so depressed about the disbanding that he might not even want to come back. The pain of possibly losing again might be too much.

"I can see you thinking about it," Tina observed. "I think we should go through with this plan. Rory goes to the competition and the rest of us go recruiting hardcore. We need six more members by then, so we have plenty of time."

"My coworker said that if each o' us could get one person to join, we'd 'ave the six, counting Mitchell. Don't ye' think we could each get just one person to join?" Rory interjected. "The more we talk about this, the more I want to give it a shot."

"What's Sam think about all this?" Blaine asked, curious as to how the blonde would react to the idea.

Rory chewed his bottom lip a little. "Well, uhm, I 'aven't told him yet. I wasn't sure I was gonna go through with it. I didn't want to get his hopes up for us."

Blaine gave him a disapproving look. "Rory! You have to tell Sam about it. He's your boyfriend. You can't keep secrets. You're supposed to talk about this kind of stuff."

The young teen didn't say anything, but stared down at his sandwich: his peanut butter sandwich Sam had made for him that morning while he showered, leaving a little note in his lunch bag that simply said, "Have a great day, I love you" on it. He suddenly felt horrible for not telling him about the contest. Blaine was right, he  _should_  have told him. If anything just to see what he thought.

"Ye'r right. I should 'ave told him about it. I'll talk to him about it tonight. Maybe he can even help me pick out an audition song."

"I think that's a great idea," Tina said before Blaine could comment back. "Then he can still participate with us, you know? I'm sure his misses glee club. This way he can sort of still be part of it."

The rest of the lunch period they talked about various ideas on how to recruit members, and how to convince the principal to allow the glee club to come together again once they did have the twelve member requirement. And, of course, there was always the issue of getting Mr. Schue to take lead again after such a blow to his goal.

_Oh me God, what 'ave I gotten meself into?_  Rory thought again. As much as he wanted to go, the knowledge that the fate of the glee club rested on his shoulders was already making his stomach churn uncomfortably.

 


	34. Episode 34: One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: This chapter starts some crazy stuff that's going to last several more chapters! Don't go making assumptions about how things are going from here on out, because nothing is as clear cut as what you think may be coming!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Sam and Rory spent Thanksgiving with the Evans family, watching the kids for the first time in ages. They were busted by Sam's cousin, but she is encouraging and willing to keep their secret. Rory started his job at the bookstore and his new coworker entered him in a contest to try and get the glee club back together and at nationals and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 34: One**

Rory lay back in Sam's arms on the couch as they watched the recorded Irish football game on the DVR. The games were always held at inconvenient times—at least for those who lived in the western hemisphere—so Rory had set up the cable box to record them; as an added benefit, this meant that the boys could watch them together and at their leisure—a definite bonus given their hectic schedules. However, it was all Rory could do to force himself not to look online to see who won beforehand.

One of the players on the screen missed a goal, causing Rory to sit up and yell at the screen. When he leaned back down, his elbow landed square in Sam's crotch. "Ooof!" Sam grunted loudly, a sudden ache overtaking his groin. "Hey, careful, babe. Those are valuable!"

"Huh? Oh! Oh, I'm sorry Sammy!" Rory apologized, realizing his mistake. Sam gave him a warm smile, accepting the apology and allowing the boy to refocus on his beloved game. He did his best to ignore the pain, thankful that Rory's sharp elbow hadn't landed any harder. Had Rory fallen and not just leaned back, Sam would be rolling in the floor in the fetal position. Sam shifted underneath him, reaching forward to the bowl of popcorn in Rory's lap.

Having obtained his prize, he crunched loudly on the snack until a commercial came on, and – while they could easily fast-forward through them – they generally let them run anyway, using the break to refill drinks, snacks, or make a quick trip to the restroom. To them, it felt more like the event was live if they  _acted_  like it was.

"What do you want to do Monday?" Sam asked, assuming that Rory already knew what that particular day was. The boy shrugged, reaching down on the floor for his fruit punch. "You  _do_  remember what Monday is, right?"

Rory turned around and kissed him on the nose. "Yes, Sammy. It's our one year anniversary," he replied smugly. "But it's a Monday, and I 'ave school, and we both 'ave to work all day. There really isn't much we can do."

Sam shifted again, his lower back starting to ache from his position against the arm of the couch. "Well, I thought about that. Maybe we could celebrate Sunday instead."

"I guess we could do that. I still don't know what we should do, though," Rory replied before stuffing his mouth full of popcorn and wiggling in Sam's arms to get more comfortable. "I'm just happy being with ye', we don't 'ave to do anything special."

Sam shook his head. "Oh hell no!" he exclaimed. "We are  _not_  just bumming around for our first year anniversary. We're gonna do  _something_  together."

Rory giggled as he turned around again, the commercials almost over and the game ready to resume. "I'll be happy with whatever ye' come up with as long as we spend the day together."

"Okay, that sounds better. How come I have to think of something though?"

Rory giggled. "Because ye'r the one who brought it up, so now ye' 'ave to figure it out. It's the rules," he teased, reaching around to tickle Sam's sides.

"Don't get me started, Rory Flanagan. You know what tickling does to me!" Sam cautioned. "I'll play by your rules though. On one condition."

The teen cocked his head, suddenly curious. "What?"

"Stay still so I can see the rest of the game," the blonde teased, turning the volume back up as the game started up again. Smiling, Rory set the bowl of popcorn down on the floor and leaned back, nuzzling up next to Sam on the couch.

"It's a deal. But I already know United wins."

"What!" Sam screeched suddenly. "How do you know that? We're supposed to watch the games  _together!_ "

Rory grinned. "I don't know it, not for sure. But they're the best. They 'ave to win. They always do."

"Yeah, except when they don't," Sam argued back playfully. Rory rolled his eyes and just wiggled up against him some more. "What do you say after the game we hit the showers, Flanagan?"

"Ye' got it, Evans," Rory chuckled. "Maybe this time I won't drop me soap."

Sam smirked. "I'm hoping you  _do._  I love the view."

The pair traded idle banter back and forth for a few more minutes before quieting down, focusing on the game again. By the time it was over, they were both too tired to 'hit the showers' and simply laid in bed and fell asleep.

Before his eyes closed for the night, however, Sam had one last thought:  _What the hell am I supposed to do for our anniversary? I've only got a couple more days to figure it out, too. Damn. I should have been better prepared for this, but it snuck up on me. Oh well, gotta come with something amazing. If he isn't smiling, I'm not either._

-ooo-

Sam had finally come up with the perfect idea for their one year anniversary. At first he had wanted to visit the zoo, but it was getting too cold for the animals to be out, and a trip to the zoo really was something more fun on a nice spring or summer day. Rory loved animals and he was always amused to watch the Irishman revert to a child whenever he got to mingle with them. He ended up settling on the aquarium, which after careful thought seemed incredibly appropriate.

"I thought that since we have so much water in our relationship, it made sense to come here, don't you think?" Sam asked as they entered the lobby. It was a very nice looking building, painted on the outside with a beautiful mural that displayed a giant whale swimming in the ocean with various other aquatic life, a sunset in the background of the surface.

"Ye' put a lot o' thought into that one, Sammy. It's nerdy, I love it," Rory exclaimed with a grin. Sam's cheeks tinted pink at the compliment, especially since the water theme was a last minute idea.

The tour of the aquarium was peaceful. On a Sunday afternoon, there was hardly anyone there – most of the crowd having been there during the week with school programs. The two boys held hands as they strolled through the halls, stopping to observe the various fish and other wildlife swimming about the giant tanks.

The most amazing feature was a tunnel that was surrounded by water, sharks swimming all around them. It reminded Sam of the park in  _Jaws 3_ , except the giant maneater was nowhere to be seen. The tunnel seemed to slowly descend until they reached a large room. Inside, the walls were mostly glass, looking into another section of the aquarium. This one showed gigantic fish and turtles.

Rory pressed his hands up against the glass, his eyes wide as he watched the oversized turtles gliding through the water. They were so much larger than the ones back at the park; big enough to ride if they were in the water with them. Despite their rough skin and shells, they held a sort of beauty to them, their calm faces giving Rory a sense of peace and gentleness.

Sam had circled the room twice while his boyfriend was glued to the turtle observation window. Sam stood next to him, finding the boy's hand with his own. "They're so peaceful, Sam. Nothing in the world is wrong for them. They just swim about, their faces so content," Rory said softly. He finally tore his eyes away from the glass and looked at Sam, who turned his head to stare back.

"Ye' know, Sammy, that's how I feel with ye'. Like I am just swimmin' around, content. Like e'erything is okay," the young teen confessed. Sam pulled him into an embrace, wrapping his strong arms around him. It was a corny thing to say, but Sam had made more than his fair share of goofy statements himself and the nerd in him appreciated the sentiment.

When they parted again, they continued to hold hands as they ambled slowly out of the other end of the room. What they saw next took their breath away.

The next tunnel section opened up into a huge glass sphere surrounded by dolphins. They were swimming merrily around, paying the sphere no mind whatsoever: just playing with each other, dancing through the water.

"It's hard to think that this is all just in some gigantic tank," Sam commented, staring in awe at the beautiful mammals. "We'd never get to see this otherwise."

Rory nodded in silent agreement. His boyfriend was right – had it not been for this gargantuan fish tank, they wouldn't have gotten to see these magnificent creatures in person.

They lost track of time, just watching the animals, both teens content. It was a perfect way to spend their anniversary.

Sam checked his watch. Somehow time had slipped by and it had quickly gone from two in the afternoon to almost four. "Come on, babe. There's still more to see," he said, guiding the younger man back through the tunnel.

The last few exhibits they had to browse included the touch tanks for horseshoe crabs and another for small turtles. The older teen had a feeling that a pet turtle was in their future. At least that was reasonable, unlike the ducks that Rory had jokingly asked for.

By the time they left the aquarium, it was around five, and they were both starting to get hungry. "I thought at first we should do BreadstiX since that's where our first date was, but… I wanted to do something a little more special for dinner," Sam announced when they got in the truck.

"Like what?" Rory asked, buckling his seat belt. Sam turned the ignition and backed out of the parking space.

"I thought we'd go to Cheesecake Factory," the blonde finally answered. "It's a step up from BreadstiX." He smiled enthusiastically, hoping that his selection was acceptable.

Rory looked thoughtful. "So it's a factory, and we watch them make cheesecakes and eat them?" he asked, serious as could be.

Sam stifled a laugh the best he could. "No, no. That's just what it's called. It's a regular sit down restaurant, with fancier food. They just happen to have, like, fifteen different kinds of cheesecake you can order for dessert."

As always, the boy's cheeks flushed red at the realization of his blunder. American slang he could get away with not knowing. The name of a restaurant chain was a little more shameful. He lowered his eyes in embarrassment as Sam ran fingers through his brunette hair with a free hand, steering with the other.

When they arrived at the restaurant, there was a wait of about a half hour, so the boys sat on the cushioned bench, people watching in silent companionship. When their names were finally called, they followed the hostess to their seat.

Within a few minutes, the waitress arrived. "Good evening gentlemen, I'm Lucy and I'll be taking care of you this evening. Let me start off by asking if you're here for a special occasion."

Having become more confident every time they appeared in public as a couple, Sam had no problem announcing to her that they were in fact, celebrating their one year anniversary. Lucy smiled and congratulated them before taking their drink orders.

"Why do you always give me that paranoid look when people ask questions?" Sam asked, cocking his head. He picked up the butter knife and cut the small loaf of pumpernickel bread, spreading butter on it before sliding a piece over to his boyfriend. "You seem so nervous."

Rory's face flushed a little. "I guess I do get a little scared about how people will react. Strangers, I mean." He picked up the slice of bread and began to nibble at it, looking at Sam for approval of his response.

The blonde shrugged. "Don't worry about that. That's for people to deal with on their own. If they can't handle two guys together, minding their own business and not doing anything raunchy, then they have bigger problems." He reached across the table and squeezed Rory's free hand. "You don't always do it, either. I noticed that. You only seem nervous  _sometimes._ "

"Don't ye' know by now I am just a little weird?" the boy replied with a giggle.

"Good point. It's one of your best qualities," the older teen replied with a smile. Before they could continue their conversation, Lucy had returned with their drink orders, and took their selections for dinner.

The two teens exchanged random conversation over the course of their meal, discussing everything from work to school to friends. Sam was enjoying his job, despite feeling a little awkward getting used to being the new guy in an office where everyone else knew each other for quite a while. Rory loved his work, having fun with Ginny in the afternoons, talking about books, movies, music – everything.

When Lucy came to clear the table, she was followed by a busboy carrying a large slice of cherry cheesecake with two forks on the plate. "Compliments of the house, gentlemen, to celebrate your special evening," the woman declared.

The cheesecake looked delicious, but both of them were on the verge of exploding. They figured it best manners, however, to eat at least a little bit of the cake, and take the rest home. Lucy kindly packed up their leftovers in Styrofoam boxes, and produced the check.

Sam took out his debit card and slid it in with the check. "Sammy, ye' can't pay for all o' it. Let me pay some, too," Rory insisted, pulling out his card.

"Put your card away, silly. They're linked to the same account, remember? Like I said, my money is your money, too. That means we're just paying for this together," Sam explained, grinning at Rory's naïveté in how their checking account worked.

"Ye' still put in way more than I do. It's not fair, Sammy," Rory argued.

"Who cares, Rory? It's just money. We share it, like everything else," Sam replied. He stared at Rory until the boy cracked a smile, and then both of them were grinning like fools, not even noticing the return of Sam's debit card. When they snapped out of their daze, he signed the receipt, and stood up, taking Rory's hand and helping him out of the seat.

"Ye' know, someday ye' got to let  _me_  be the gentleman," the Irishman giggled.

Sam shrugged. "Okay, fine. You can be the gentleman all the way back to the truck. I just like spoiling you, that's all. It makes me happy to make you smile. When you smile, your eyes get all bright and shiny."

Cheeks pink once again, the younger teen gave him a curious smile. "Do they really do that?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. They had left the restaurant and were walking along the sidewalk to return to the parking garage where the truck was at. As promised, Sam let the teen open the door for him, a tiny action that seemed to pacify his boyfriend's desire to be gentlemanly for the moment. He completed the gesture when they arrived home, letting him open the door and take his hand to help him out of the truck, then holding open the door to the apartment as they stepped over the threshold.

No sooner were the behind the closed door than Sam spun Rory around and took him in a tight embrace. "I love you  _so_  much, Rory. More than I've ever loved anyone," he said, his voice shaking slightly, his whole body following suit.

"Sam? Ye'r… ye'r tremblin'," Rory observed. "Are ye' okay?" He knew the answer, he knew Sam was merely overwhelmed with emotion, but he couldn't think of what else to say.

The blonde placed his hand on top of the brunette's soft hair. "Sorry. Just so happy, I guess it's vibrating out of me or something." Before the younger teen could respond, he eased the embrace just enough to lean his head to kiss him. Their lips locked in passion.

Sam ran his hands down Rory's spine, ending at his rear and squeezing tightly. He massaged the firm globes until he had actually lifted the boy up off his feet, supporting him. Their lips never parted as Sam carried him to their bedroom, Rory's arms wrapped tightly around his torso for support.

They couldn't be sure exactly how they ended up on the bed, their heads lost in passion, but within minutes the young teen found himself on his back, his older boyfriend hovering above him as he struggled to pull off Rory's shirt. Rory on the other hand, was reaching up toward Sam's chest, tearing open the buttons on his shirt.

Before long, they were on the bed together, nude, aroused, and kissing. Their lips barely parted long enough for air as their tongues danced between them, their hands roaming over every inch of each other's sweating bodies.

They made love for what seemed like hours, finally reaching their climaxes together and collapsing in a glistening heap next to each other. Sam held his boyfriend in his arms, despite the fact they were both incredibly sticky.

Finally deciding on a shower before bed, they slowly padded to the bathroom, holding hands. They left the light off in the bathroom, the only luminance coming from a small nightlight in the outlet near the sink.

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly as he was gently washing Rory's back with a loofah.

"Sorry for what, Sammy?"

"For not making your first time… more special. Like this, or back at the lake, or any of the times when it's much more romantic," the blonde explained.

Rory turned his head, looking at Sam in the dim light. "Our first time was fine. It was a first time for us both. It was perfect, because I knew I was safe with ye', that ye' wouldn't hurt me. That ye' would still want to be with me after."

Sam had moved from rubbing his back to taking the boy's right arm and gently caressing him from shoulder to fingertip, building a lather over his skin. "I just wish I could have made it special for you, that's all."

"It was wonderful, Sam. Ye' worry too much about silly things. That was the first time, but we've had so much romantic, intense, even dirty sex since then. It's all special to me in some way or other, ye' know."

Rory lifted his left arm as Sam changed sides. "Ye' wouldn't be doin' this to me if ye' didn't think what we did is special." Sam paused his washing and pressed his chest up against the boy's back, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"You're right. I guess I just want you to have the best of everything I can give you," Sam whispered into the boy's ear.

"Ye' do. I promise, ye' give me the best. Never doubt it," the Irishman assured. "We better finish up, before the hot water runs out. I still 'ave to make sure ye'r good and squeaky clean."

They finished their shower, dried each other off, and padded back to the bedroom. Their sheets were soaked from sweat and sex, so Rory quickly changed them, while Sam plugged his iPod into the speaker and loaded up some gentle, sleepy music.

"I love ye', Sammy Evans. I love ye' so much. Thank ye', for giving me a wonderful anniversary."

"I love you too, Rory. I think we made the day wonderful for each other," Sam replied. They snuggled up next to each other, Sam spooning the teen in his arms until they both fell asleep.

-ooo-

Sam fingered the envelope skeptically as he pulled it from the mailbox. He made it a habit to check it every day, but unless they received a DVD order from NetFlix, or random junkmail delivered to 'Resident', they never got anything. Today, however, there was a letter addressed to Rory Flanagan, the return address reading simply, 'The Glee Club Project' with a logo underneath.

The blonde lifted it up to the sky, trying to see through the envelope using the sunlight. It was childish, but he was dying to know what was inside, but he refused to open up mail addressed to Rory, and only Rory. Even still, he was dying to know. He would have to wait another couple of hours, however, as the boy was still at work.

An idea popped into his head as curiosity began to take charge.  _I could take this to the bookstore, give it to him. Tell him it might be important, because we never get mail. He'll probably see right through me, but dammit, this might be something really awesome. Or it might be junk. But if it's junk, it seems awful soon to be getting junkmail addressed by name. Ah, hell, I'm gonna take it to him. I'll stop and bring him a snack though, then it won't seem like I went there just for the letter. Sam, you can be a total genius sometimes._

-ooo-

Ginny looked up as soon as she heard the jingle of the bell on the door, opened her mouth to give her normal greeting, but then noticed it was the beautiful blonde roommate of Rory's. "Hi Sam, nice to see you again," she said with a flirtatious smile.

"Hi Ginny, nice to see you, too. Rory around?" he replied, looking around the immediate area, seeing no sign of his boyfriend.

"He's on the back aisle, stocking books. Want me to get him for you?" she asked, grinning like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Sam smiled back at her. "Nah, I'll go back there," he replied, walking past the counter and down the nearest aisle toward the back of the shop.  _I think that girl has the hots for me. Unlucky for her, I'm already taken. She's a cute girl though_ _._

Just as Ginny has said, Rory was against the back wall, on a ladder, stocking books on the top shelf. "Hey you!" Sam said gruffly as he approached him. Startled, Rory spun around on the ladder, his feet losing their grip on the rung. He started to fall backward, but Sam caught him before he stumbled to the ground.

Standing upright, Rory spun back around and smacked Sam on the arm, hard. "Not funny, Sammy!" he scolded as Sam laughed.

"Oww, hey! I didn't mean to make you fall. You gotta admit though, good catch, right?" he replied smugly, bending down to pick up the small paper bag and letter he had dropped in his rush to catch his falling boyfriend. Rory simply huffed at him. "If it makes you feel better, you got a hell of a slap."

The boy glared at him, not really angry, but a little embarrassed. He was about to launch into a lecture about ladder safety when Sam held out the paper bag to him. On the side of it was the logo of Dunkin' Donuts.

"Here. Peace offering. It has peanut butter icing on top," Sam said, grinning sheepishly. Rory took the bag and opened it up, taking out the pastry. It didn't take him even a minute to gobble down the delicious treat. "I think you inhaled it!" Sam joked. "Hey, you have peanut butter on your mouth." He reached forward and wiped the sticky icing from the side of Rory's mouth with his thumb, then licked it clean before wiping it on his jeans.

_Roommates, huh? I never saw a roommate who licked icing that just came off of his friend's mouth before. Not the way he touched his cheek that way,_ Ginny thought to herself as she slyly spied on the pair out of the corner of her eye.  _Nope, no way those two are just roomates._

"So... you got this in the mail today," Sam said coyly, handing the teen his letter. "Thought it might be important. We never get mail with our names on it." He gazed at Rory's face as the boy looked at the envelope.

"Probably just a rejection letter. Nothing to worry about," the Irishman replied, slowly sliding the envelope open as if he were afraid to tear the paper.

Sam raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. "Rejection letter? For...?"

Rory didn't respond as he pulled the letter out and unfolded it, his eyes moving back and forth quickly as he read the words. "Well?" Sam urged.

"It says I've been accepted..." Rory replied quietly. He handed the letter over to Sam, who slowly read over it.

Ginny couldn't help herself. Nevermind that she had seen them being entirely too cute together, but she had overheard Rory state that he had been accepted, and she could only imagine he was referring to the entry form she sent in for him. She skipped away from the counter, bringing along with her several books.

"Don't let me interrupt, I just have to put these away back here..." she said slyly, inching toward the door to the employee area. "Oh, did you hear from the contest?" she asked, taking advantage of the fact that the logo on the envelope was in plain sight the way he was holding onto it.

"Oh. Oh yeah, it says I've been accepted," he replied with a half smile.

"Seriously? You were accepted?" she cried, dropping the books she was holding on to. She closed the distance between them and took his hands excitedly. "That means you can save your glee club!"

Sam looked completely clueless. "Uh, what's going on? What's this letter about?" he asked.

"Rory entered this contest for glee club students, and the winner of the contest guarantees a bid to nationals for his club! I say 'his' because I just know Rory will win," Ginny explained.

"Oh. This is the first I heard of this," Sam said flatly, his feelings slightly hurt that he was left in the dark.

Rory noticed the look on Sam's face and the tone in his voice. "I'm sorry, Sam, I just forgot about it. Ginny signed me up and I never thought I'd get to go so I just forgot about it." He gave him an apologetic look.

"It's okay," the blonde said, perking up a little. "So... if you win this… this whatever-it-is, the glee club can go to nationals? But McKinley doesn't even  _have_  a glee club anymore."

"We'll see... that was something else Ginny suggested. We 'ave six members already, so if we each got one person to join, that's twelve. The competition isn't until January and nothing says we 'ave to go to, or even win, sectionals or regionals," the young teen explained hopefully. "What do ye' think, Sam?"

Sam chewed on his bottom lip as he mulled it over. It sounded promising, but it also sounded too good to be true. "How many people are entered?"

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. One from each high school I think. It says here that I 'ave an audition in January. I guess I find out then."

"So... you go to this audition, win, of course, and then what?" Sam asked, still confused.

"I'm not entirely sure, but from what I read here, it looks like if I make it high enough in the roster, I go on TV to compete."

Sam's eyes widened. "TV? Like actual television? Like my bo- roommate is going to be on live TV, for everyone to see?" he exclaimed, catching himself before he said the entire word, 'boyfriend'.

Ginny giggled. "It's okay, Sam. You can say it. I figured you two were together," she stated comfortingly, patting the blonde on the shoulder. "You should be so excited for him! This is the chance of a lifetime. Just think, Rory, if you win this, not only can you get your club to nationals, but who knows? You might catch the eye of some big executive who wants you to be on TV or on the radio and you can make millions!"

"That would be nice. Then I could take care o' Sammy. We wouldn't 'ave to worry about anything ever again," Rory said, his head in the clouds all of a sudden. "Maybe this was a good idea afterall, Ginny."

Ginny grinned triumphantly. "I told you so!" She turned to address Sam in particular. "He was a little reluctant, but I convinced him to enter."

Rory scoffed playfully. "No, ye'  _made_  me enter! I didn't get a choice!"

"Well whoever got you in there, you have an audition to rehearse for until January. You know I totally expect you to bring home the giant trophy, right?" Sam interjected. "Maybe Celtic Thunder will notice you!"

"Who?" Ginny asked, scrunching up her face.

"Celtic Thunder. Me favorite Irish singing group. They're amazin'! It'd be like a dream come true to be part o' them," the teen answered wistfully.

Sam and Ginny exchanged smiles. "Well then, it looks like we better get you ready for this if you want to get their attention," the older boy stated confidently.

Rory felt a tendril of nervousness creep into his belly at the looks they were giving him.  _What did I get meself into?_

-ooo-

"Please, Sammy, come on," Rory pleaded with the older teen as they sat on the couch watching TV. "It won't be like last time. Sebastian isn't around, and Blaine really needs to get out and 'ave some fun."

Sam sighed. He knew his boyfriend was right, and was only looking out for their friend. It would be fun to go to the club and dance, listen to the music, relax a bit outside of the apartment. He was just primarily concerned about Sebastian showing up. The last thing he wanted to deal with was that cocky brat.

Rory used his last resort weapon – the puppy dog eyes that almost always got him what he wanted. "Oh god, Rory, don't give me that look! You know I can't say no when you do that!" The boy stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. That was all Sam needed. "Fine, fine. Text him and tell him to be here in an hour."

The Irish lad sat up excitedly, reaching for his phone on the floor next to the couch. A coffee table was definitely one of the top things on their 'to buy' list. He quickly typed out a text message and within a minute, had a reply.

"He says he'll be here. Thank ye' Sammy. I know it means a lot to him, too. He's been really down lately," Rory said happily. "This should cheer him up a bit. I just wish we had a fourth person to come along, too."

"There's always Sugar," Sam teased. "That girls has the hots for you bad." Rory scrunched up his face in disgust.

"That's crazy talk! She does not. And no, I don't think she's the right one to come with us. We can make it just three of us, but we should be careful not to be too boyfriendy." Rory kissed Sam lightly on the lips before hopping up off the couch. "We don't want him to feel left out." Not waiting for a response, he skipped off to their bedroom to change into clothes more appropriate for going out – pajama pants and a tank top weren't exactly high fashion for going to the club.

-ooo-

As before, the three boys had no trouble using their fake IDs to get into Scandals, the only gay club in town. Even with a fake ID, Rory in particular looked far too young to be twenty one, but the staff at Scandals seemed like they did a lot of looking the other way just to accommodate the good looking clientele.

The club was more crowded this time than their previous visit, but no sign of Sebastian anywhere. Sam relaxed a little bit, feeling like it might be a decent night after all.

After only an hour of dancing to loud techno and pop music remixes, all three of them were thirsty. Sam ordered a Coke, but both Blaine and Rory ordered beers.

"Uh, Rory? Beer?" Sam asked skeptically. "Playing it a little dangerous aren't you? If they find out that ID is faked, you can get in huge trouble for drinking."

Rory shrugged it off. "It's just one. I won't get like I did before. This is safe drinking. Besides, I don't want Blaine to be drinking by himself."

Sam didn't like it – all he could think about was the last time Rory got drunk, and what happened. At least this time he could keep a closer eye on him, and he knew better than to take drinks from people now. He watched Rory pay for the drinks on his card, and sighed again as he watching him take a sip of the cold brew.

Another hour later, Rory had downed three beers, and Blaine had done the same, tacking on a shot of liquor for good measure. Sam put his foot down and forbid them both to drink anymore, insisting that they had enough of a buzz and didn't need to get drunk. Still having his faculties about him, Rory didn't resist, knowing his boyfriend was right. If they got drunk, they would go from having a good time to feeling sick.

The sober one, Sam drove the three of them back to the apartment not long after his ban on drinking anymore. He insisted Blaine stay over and sleep on the couch, taking his keys from him just to be on the safe side. Sitting on the couch, Blaine was already starting to doze off.

"I think I better go ahead and get to sleep," the former Warbler admitted. Sam handed him a spare pillow and a blanket. Blaine thanked him, stripped to his boxers, and lay on the couch, pulling the covers up over his bare chest.

Neither Sam nor Rory realized when they padded to their room that the door was slightly ajar. Had they known, they surely would have shut it all the way, or reconsidered what happened next. As in poor taste as it was to be having sex with their friend in the other room, Rory was insatiably horny – the alcohol igniting his primal urges.

"We should chill out, babe. Blaine's in the other room," Sam protested quietly. Rory ignored him, straddling him on the bed and leaning down to kiss him. The blonde could taste the beer on his breath, despite both of them having brushed their teeth. The longer Rory kissed him, and the longer he let himself be touched in all the right places, the easier it was for Sam to forget his friend was in the next room and to just let passion take over.

-ooo-

Blaine thought he had been asleep for hours, but he had actually been unconscious for all of twenty minutes. His full bladder brought him out of his slumber. He usually made it a habit to pee before bed to avoid this very thing, but he was tipsy – thinking wasn't on the high priority list. He sat up, noticing there was a strange sound in the room.

The noise wasn't loud – in fact it was hardly there at all. It sounded like labored breathing, heavy and irregular. He could hear some sort of faint movement, and it was then that he realized his friends must not be asleep.

The teen slowly threw his feet over the side of the couch and debated knocking on their bedroom door to see what was going on. He quietly got up and padded toward the door; on his way there, however, he realized his friends were not only awake, they were also engaged in a very intimate moment.

Any other time, common decency would have forced Blaine to quickly hotfoot it into the bathroom, handle business, and then return to the couch, falling back asleep not long after. Being under the influence of alcohol, however, his judgment wasn't as keen, and he didn't move from his position in front of the door.

He could hear light moans and grunts of exertion coming from the room, and it was then that he noticed the door was cracked.  _Either they have an exhibitionist streak, or they don't realize the door's ajar,_ Blaine thought to himself. He suppressed the urge to giggle and simply stood there a moment. Curiosity was gnawing at him.

The crack in the door was begging to be taken advantage of. The light in the room was off, but the moonlight that shone in through the partially closed blinds was enough light for Blaine to peek in and see exactly what he thought he would. Sam was lying back on the bed, Rory perched above him, riding him up and down. Blaine's jaw dropped as he watched the scene of his two best friends taking part in their most private of moments.

Blaine knew he should walk away, should respect their privacy, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He couldn't help but watch as Rory's smooth ass moved up and down, Sam thrusting his hips upward to meet his downward motions. He could make out far more detail than he ever should have seen, and his conscience kept nagging at him to just walk away. He could see Sam's hands gripping Rory's ass, squeezing, and he could hear him moaning softly at the sensation.

_Oh. My. God._  Blaine had picked up his jaw, but he was chewing his bottom lip in nervousness as he watched his friends. He hadn't imagined ever seeing this – ever seeing them in a sexual manner at all, but seeing this scene, watching as the younger teen glided up and down what appeared to be a very large erection, it brought a new slew of thoughts to him.  _What if they catch me watching? I wonder how big he actually is. I bet Rory's smaller but not by much. Can't see it from this angle. I've seen them in the locker room but that's nothing. Oh wow, I miss Kurt so much. I should be doing that with him, not watching my friends have sex._

He could hear Rory moaning louder than the boy meant to as he shot his orgasm all over Sam's chest. It was at that very moment that Blaine realized not only was he sporting a very strong erection of his own, but that he had actually popped out of his shorts and was subconsciously playing with himself. Not in a serious manner, not like he did when he masturbated at home, thinking of Kurt, or watching movies. He was just fumbling about with his fingers.

Blaine was far too embarrassed of his spying to watch any longer, and he was beginning to ache from the pressure, and the throbbing hard on was not helping matters. It suddenly dawned on him that once they finished, they may very well venture back out into the living room, so his best bet was to pee and then at the very least, pretend to be asleep.

Blaine snuck into the bathroom, the only light coming from the faint glow of a night light in the socket. He had to sit down to pee because he was so hard, he was afraid he might miss the bowl. After watching that scene, he was craving an orgasm of his own, but he knew that if he actually came, the aftermath of thinking of Kurt would hurt all the more. He was afraid of the low that came after the extraordinary high that an orgasm could bring on.

Finishing up, Blaine crept back to the couch, and pulled the covers back over himself. Fortunately, within ten minutes, he had fallen asleep, his erection finally going away. He wondered if Sam and Rory had any idea they had been watched. All night long, Blaine saw the scene over and over again in his dreams. He decided right then that he needed to talk to Kurt soon in order to curb the strange feelings he was getting. Sadness. Longing. All he wanted was to wrap himself in Kurt's arms before they made long, passionate love. Sadly the closest thing they could have to that for now was a sexy Skype session or two where they simply watched each other jerking off.

Sam and Rory, sated, rolled into their respective spooning positions and fell asleep, completely unaware that Blaine had seen them, or that he had even went into the bathroom. As far as they were concerned, Blaine had been fast asleep the entire time.

-ooo-

Blaine woke up to the smell of something delicious. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it made his stomach rumble as he realized how hungry he was. By the time he sat up, he recognized one of the smells – bacon. Bacon was cooking, the sound of grease popping in a pan echoing softly from the kitchen. He threw the blanket off of himself and sat on the edge of the couch, putting his head in his hands as the previous night's events replayed in his head.

Blaine and Rory had gotten a little more than tipsy. Blaine went to sleep on the couch but woke up to find his friends' bedroom door open a crack, and so he hazarded a peek and witnessed them having sex. He then went to the bathroom, taking care of his original plan, and then went to sleep, thinking of Kurt and craving some intimate time with him. Check, check, check, and check. Nothing missing or blacked out.

Satisfied that he accurately recalled the night, he stood up—checking to make sure he wasn't standing at attention from the night's dreams—and awkwardly padded to the kitchen where he found Sam, clad in basketball shorts and a tank top, one hand on the handle of a pan full of grease and bacon, the other flipping over a fried egg in another pan.

"Good morning!" Sam greeted. "Sleep well? How do you like your eggs?" he asked, not pausing between questions.

Blaine scratched his head and stretched in the doorway, trying to act nonchalant, despite the fact that he couldn't help but visualize Sam, nude. He blinked his vision away and smiled. "Yeah, slept great, thanks." Sam nodded and then gestured toward the egg in the pan. "Oh yeah, whatever you guys are having. Don't do anything special for me."

Sam shrugged. "That doesn't help much. Rory likes his scrambled with cheese, and I'm having fried. So either, or."

The still half-asleep teen shrugged as well, then decided on a scrambled egg, which seemed slightly less fattening due to less grease, even if it was foolish rationalization. "Can I help with anything?" he asked politely.

"Nah," the blonde answered. "I got it under control." He grabbed a fork sitting on the countertop next to him and stabbed each piece of bacon, one by one, setting them atop a plate. With great skill, he laid out several more raw slices into the oil with one hand and then flipped the egg one more time.

"My god, you're good at that," Blaine exclaimed, watching the master chef.

Sam grinned. "My mom and dad taught me how to cook. They said I'd need to cook for my wife someday," he said, laughing. "Who knew, right?"

"Who knew what?" the familiar Irish voice asked, sliding past Blaine and into the kitchen. He paused by Sam long enough to give him a quick peck on the lips before opening the fridge for some orange juice.

"Oh I was just saying how mom and dad thought I'd be cooking for a wife someday. I guess you'll have to do, huh?" Sam smirked.

Rory cut his eyes at him playfully. "Very funny, Samuel Evans," he scolded. "Be nice or ye'll find some arsenic in ye'r juice!"

"Ohhh I love a good shot of arsenic," the blonde joked, returning his focus to the stove.

Blaine just shook his head. On one hand he was happy to see his two best friends sharing such playful banter, enjoying something as simple as making breakfast together, but on the other hand it hurt to see it. He missed Kurt so strongly, wished that he could be doing this very thing with his boyfriend instead of watching his friends. Not one to spoil other people's moods however, he merely smiled and thanked Rory as he handed him a glass of orange juice.

"Go on, 'ave a seat me friend. I'll bring ye'r plate in a second," the youngest teen instructed. Blaine didn't move at first, but Rory shooed him away with his hands, sending him off to the table. "Go on, ye'r the guest, we'll do it right."

While Rory really did want to show his friend hospitality, he also wanted to take a moment to speak to Sam alone. "He didn't act like he heard anything last night, did he?" he whispered.

Sam smirked. "No. Slept like a rock. I don't know  _what_  got into you last night."

"I don't remember hearin' ye' complainin'," the teen retorted. "I kind o' feel bad though. I shouldn't 'ave done that with him in the other room like that." He busied himself by mixing up his eggs, tearing up a slice of cheese into pieces and dropping them in.

"You were a little under the influence, babe. But we should watch it, especially in front of him."

Rory nodded. "He smiles, but I can tell, he's lonely inside. Can't ye' sense it? It's in his eyes, ye' know?" He reached next to Sam, setting his bowl of raw eggs on the countertop and exchanging it for the finished fried one. He wrinkled his nose at it. "I don't see how ye' can eat this. Ye' poke it and it oozes."

"I'm gonna leave  _that_  one alone!" Sam replied, snickering, his mind visiting the gutter momentarily. He didn't see his boyfriend roll his eyes as the brunette set slices of bread on the cookie sheet.

"Move ye'r big arse, Sammy," Rory demanded. Sam slid aside, letting the boy open the oven and slide the tray inside. "Don't let it burn."

"Nothing's gonna burn if you don't turn it on," Sam said, laughing. Rory blushed and quickly reached over the stove to the controls and turned the oven on. By the time it reached 'preheat' the bread would be toasted.

As Rory backed away from the range, Sam turned his head and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. When Sam pulled back, he nodded toward the drawer under the countertop. "Get the forks and knives, babe. Then go chat with Blaine, I'll finish up."

"Okay, Sammy," Rory replied obediently. He grabbed the silverware from the drawer and strolled around the corner into the dining area. When Blaine noticed him come in, he looked up at his friend and smiled. Rory smiled back and took a seat across from the older boy.

"After we eat I should probably head home," Blaine said. "I have homework I need to finish up, and probably some chores to do or something." He did everything he could to not look Rory directly in the eyes, taking great care to look  _past_  him, not  _at_  him. As with Sam, all he could see was Rory, nude, sitting atop the blonde athlete.

Rory placed his hand atop Blaine's on the table. The action startled Blaine, and he broke his concentration and met eyes with his friend. Could Rory see right through him and tell that he had seen everything the night before?

"Ye' know ye'r me and Sammy's best friend, Blaine," Rory began. "I said it before, I know ye'r lonely, missin' ye'r Kurt and all. Ye'r welcome to spend a smuch time as ye' want here. I know it's not easy seeing us together, but we don't want ye' sitting at home, lonely, either."

Blaine gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you, Rory. Really," he said. "It's just hard. You know; you and Sam were apart over the summer. It sucks."

Their conversation was cut short as Sam walked in carrying two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. "And breakfast is served gentlemen," he said, faking an English accent. "Anything I can get you?"

"No, thank ye'," Rory replied with a grin. Sam winked at him and stepped back into the kitchen, returning a moment later with his own plate plus a jar of grape jelly, and a jar of peanut butter.

"Ten bucks says the peanut butter goes on Rory's entire plate," Blaine joked.

"Ha. Ha. Ye'r so funny, Mr. Anderson," Rory replied with a smirk. He popped open the jar of spread and lightly coated his toast, then set it on the table right next to him, as if guarding it.

The three boys ate their breakfast, talking and joking with one another, already discussing plans for the following weekend. Blaine suggested that Rory begin the task of selecting a song for his audition as soon as possible.

"The sooner you get a song, the sooner you can practice. Every day," Sam said with a smile. "Don't look at me like that," he added, noting the pout on his boyfriend's face. "I want you to win, and you want to win, too. If you plan on taking home the cup, you have to practice. Every. Day."

Blaine shrugged. "He's right…"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I don't think it's settled in yet, just how important this contest is for the glee club," the boy replied, pushing his plate back, the only thing left on it his bread crusts, which Sam immediately snagged up and ate.

When they were finished, Blaine thanked his gracious hosts and then announced his need to return home. While neither of his friends had said anything, he still felt a little awkward being around them for the moment when he kept envisioning them naked. Well, almost. He had seen quite a bit, but he still hadn't seen  _everything_ , but it was still an image he shouldn't have seen.

As soon as Blaine got in his SUV, he turned on the radio, allowing himself to burst into tears as he let the despair of missing Kurt take over. He needed to go home and see if he could get his boyfriend to Skype with him – not for sexual release, but just to talk. To see his face, his smile. He  _needed_  to see him. Blinking his tears away with a new resolve, he put the SUV in gear and drove home, determined not to let Kurt see his loneliness when he got on the webcam with him.

-ooo-

Blaine trudged up to his bedroom quietly, not having to greet either of his parents, who were at church anyway. Church had never really been his thing, which they stopped pushing once he came out to them.

Closing his bedroom door behind him, he pulled out his chair in front of his desk, turning on his computer. After a few minutes, it had booted up, and he clicked on the chat icon. He scanned the buddy list for Kurt's name, but it wasn't there. Kurt wasn't online.

He sniffled, a tear dripping down his face in disappointment. He had sent Kurt a text message earlier, simply wishing him a 'Happy Sunday', but had yet to hear back from him. It was Sunday, so where was Kurt?

_Happy Sunday to you, too. Love you lots!_

Finally! His phone beeped at the arrival of Kurt's text message, which the boy read three times, just out of habit – he always read Kurt's texts over and over. Smiling, he typed out a quick reply.

_What's up? Haven't heard from you all weekend_

It was an exaggeration, of course. They made it a point to text at least once a day, although that generally turned into twenty at a time, which finally would turn into an actual phone call.

_Working on a new assignment with Rachel. Sorry, been so busy the past few days._

It figured he was with Rachel. They had become attached at the hip since arriving at New York, according to Kurt. He was glad to hear it, however, as the idea of Kurt not having someone he knew close by was a little daunting. At least this way, he had Rachel and Finn to spend time with.

_I bet you're doing awesome. Record for me when you can._

Another thing that they had been doing was recording their singing and sending them as MP3s back and forth. It was the next best thing to singing in person since Skype had crappy pickup, and everyone sounded like amateurs on the phone.

_I will. Gotta go for now. Phone call tonight around nine. Love you!_

Blaine smiled at that. His phone calls with Kurt were always bittersweet. On one hand he loved talking to him, catching up, hearing his voice. On the other hand, the silence after hanging up was always painful as the reality of Kurt's distance would quickly settle back in. Blaine wouldn't trade his phone calls and Skype sessions with Kurt for anything though. It kept him going.

_Love you always._

The phone blipped again as Rory texted him back.

_Love you too Blaine but I'm not Kurt_

Blaine blushed despite nobody being around to see it. He hadn't realized that Rory had sent him a message and he had sent the text to  _him_  and not Kurt. Feeling foolish, he quickly switched over to Kurt and resent the message to him, then returned to Rory.

_Sorry about that! Didn't see your message pop up._

He did have to admit, he would have loved to see the teen's reaction upon seeing the text. They all loved each other as friends, but such a blatant declaration was definitely on the awkwardness list.

_Just making sure you're okay. You seemed a little sad when you left_

Blaine let a smile sneak across his lips. Rory was the only person other than Kurt who could read him so well. He should have known not to bother keeping his emotions from Rory, a friend who truly did care about him.

_I'm good, just miss Kurt. TTYL, gonna nap_

His excuse was lame – he wasn't exactly tired, but he couldn't think of anything else to say and didn't feel like faking a conversation. He knew his friend would understand.

_Ok. Hugs! TTYL_

It always made him smile how Rory would sign off his messages. Most people either just stopped replying, or said a one or two word goodbye, but Rory always signed off with something more affectionate.

Blaine got up and plopped himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't help but picture Sam and Rory again, in their most intimate of activities from the night before. He felt dirty for watching, spying on them. He should have just pulled the door closed, or at the very least just stopped watching, but something had made him keep looking.

The forlorn boy couldn't help himself, as when he saw Rory sitting atop Sam's waist, he couldn't help but think of Kurt in a way. They both had the slim figure, smooth skin, and their hair looked similar when Rory had tousled his own. He even parted his lips the way Kurt did when they were making love. The thing was that, if he were to imagine himself utilizing the same position Sam and Rory had—one that he and Kurt had used on many occasions—it wasn't his boyfriend he imagined bouncing atop his manhood. Instead, the face that sat atop the shadowy figure riding him was Rory's.

_Why am I thinking about Rory? That's messed up. I should be thinking of Kurt. Only Kurt. I love Kurt. I'm_ inlove _with Kurt. I'm not in love with Rory. Hell, I don't even see Rory as- wait, I kind of do. Rory's cute, I can't deny that. He's adorable, the same way Kurt is. A little awkward, a babyface, soft skin. Yeah, nice, soft skin. Like when he touched me this morning. What's up with that anyway? The way he put his hand on mine. It seemed a little more intimate than I think he realizes. I'm just being silly. Rory isn't attracted to me. He has Sam, and as far as that boy is concerned, Sam is his life. He wouldn't see anyone else attractive. Right? Wait, what the fuck? Why am I even thinking about it_ _? It doesn't matter! I have Kurt, and I'm happy with Kurt! I'm just lonely, that's it. Rory reminds me of Kurt, that's all._

As Blaine argued back and forth with himself, he found himself yawning. He hadn't gotten as much sleep as he would have liked, and a nap might be good, except…  _What if I dream about… Rory? Instead of Kurt… I don't want that. But I can't control my dreams. I'm so tired though. I guess I just gotta hope it's Kurt in there._

With that final plea to his subconscious, Blaine allowed himself to fall asleep, clutching his body pillow as if it were his boyfriend in his arms instead of fluff and feathers.

-ooo-

"Whatcha workin' on?" Sam asked, peeking over Rory's shoulder as the younger teen was diligently writing in a notebook, his math text right next to his paper.

"English homework," he replied flatly, not looking up. "It's due tomorrow," he added, sighing. "I forgot all about it until an hour ago." Sam stood upright and put his hands on Rory's shoulders, rubbing gently.

"Maybe you need a break…" Sam suggested, the tone in his voice one of mischief. "All work and no play makes Rory a dull boy."

Rory shrugged Sam's hands off of himself. "No. I 'ave to get this done."

Feeling slightly rejected, Sam sighed and walked out of the room, turning the light off as he went. "Sammy! Turn that light back on!" Rory called out. Sam grinned and reached back, flipping the switch again. It was a little game he played with Rory on occasion, just to rile the boy up and break the tension just a little. This time, though, it simply annoyed the boy. "Just let me finish this already and then we can-" But his words were cut off as Sam grumbled from the couch in the living room.

"Don't worry about it," he said, rolling his eyes even though the other teen couldn't see it. "I'll get used to it," he added. Having been out of school for a few months, he had quickly gotten used to not worrying about homework or projects. His only worry was his job, which he was able to work nine to five, five days a week, and then leave at the office. He never had to bring it home with him. Unfortunately, Rory was slightly more busy, having to work part time every day in addition to having a steady dose of homework. It was something Sam was still adjusting to.

Sam picked up the remote and turned the TV on, changing channels until he found  _Family Guy_  on a rerun. He didn't feel all that much like laughing, but the show brought a smile across his face as the jokes were too funny to be sour all evening.

By the time the show was over, it was already ten and he was getting tired. He also had seen neither hide nor hair from his boyfriend and was a little concerned that perhaps he had pissed him off a little more than he thought. He shut off the TV, got off the couch and walked to the bedroom, turning the living room light off on his way.

"Rory? Baby?" he called out quietly, the light to the bedroom already turned off. He padded over to the desk, noting that it was clear of Rory's homework, packed away in his messenger bag, Sam looked down at it and half-smiled. As much as it was difficult getting used to it, he had to give Rory credit for sticking with his work, even without constant parental supervision.

A tiny bit of moonlight shone between the break in the curtains, giving the room just enough illumination for Sam to see his tired boyfriend already in bed, laying on his side. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth, Sam came back to the bedroom, disrobed, and climbed under the sheets. He scooted himself closer to the warm body next to him and turned on his side, pulling the boy closer to him.

"I'm sorry if I made you mad," he whispered, not wanting to wake him if he was indeed asleep. All he heard in return was a quiet whimper. He was fast asleep – he didn't hear Sam's apology, but at least Sam had said it. He was always quick to apologize when he upset his young boyfriend, the guilt of nationals the previous year still weighing heavily on his conscience. "I love you," he whispered a moment later. Even if Rory was dead asleep, Sam would never let a night go by where he didn't declare his love for his other half.

 


	35. Episode 35: F & F

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Sorry for the incredibly long delay in posting this new chapter. As you are most likely aware, FFnet made a large purge of sexual stories, and the anger that ran through my veins blocked my motivation for about a week. I removed for the time being my sex-only one shots, and will definitely inform you all when a new home has been made for them. I couldn't risk them taking this story down. I've put way too much into it, and you all have given me way too much feedback for it to disappear. I hemmed and hawed over the conversations in this chapter so I hope they turned out okay. They're the other reason it took me so long on this one.  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Sam and Rory shared in their one year anniversary at the aquarium, and then later, Sam found out about Rory's entry into The Glee Club Project, where he got accepted for an audition in January. They took Blaine to a bar and they had a bit to drink so Blaine slept over and spied on his friends having sex, and now everything's awkward and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 35: F & F**

Sam sat alone in the break room of the radio station, quietly eating his lunch and reading a comic book. Comics were one of the few things he deemed important enough to read even though his dyslexia made it particularly difficult. Recently, he had discovered  _Ultimate X-men_  and was catching up on the more recent series. He was so engrossed in the recent death of Cyclops (again) that he didn't notice anyone else come in.

"Hi," a friendly, deep voice greeted. Sam looked up at the speaker – a young man around his own age with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and glasses. He beared a very slight resemblance to Kurt, but much more masculine features. "Mind if I sit down?" the man asked, more to be polite than anything – there was no other place  _to_  sit down in the break room. Sam shrugged and motioned for him to have a seat. "I've seen you around but we haven't officially met. I'm Robert. Robert Wright."

Sam smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Sam. Nice to meet you," the blonde replied. Robert shook his hand and then set to unpacking his lunch. After a few minutes of awkward silence, he finally decided to break the ice. "So, uh… what area do you work in?"

"Marketing," Robert answered, arranging his meal neatly on the tabletop. It was nothing special – a simple sandwich and chips, cookies, and a drink, but he seemed to take great effort in making it look presentable. He noticed Sam looking at his oddly. "I'm OCD about my food. I like the presentation to look nice." Sam simply nodded.

"That sounds fun. You get to do all the promotional stuff and make posters and flyers, right?" Sam asked.

Robert laughed. "I wish! I'm at the bottom rung of the ladder. I get to do the-"

"Crap work," they finished together, laughing.

"Yeah, that. Stuff that nobody else wants to do but it still needs to be done," the brunette explained. He took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. "It's not so bad though. I'll get to the good stuff sooner or later. What about you?"

Sam finishing chewing, swallowed, and then answered. "Assistant. Just doing random stuff nobody feels like messing with. Same thing as you I guess," he replied. Robert continued to look at him as if he expected Sam to go on, but Sam didn't know what else the other man was expecting to hear.

"So… just passing time? Or you have something else in mind?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I want to get an album. Sam Evans Unplugged or something," the blonde snickered. "I'd settle for being a DJ though. Something with music, ya know?" Suddenly he felt really stupid, as if his answer seemed incredibly immature compared to a man who wanted to be in marketing. It didn't help matters that he was reading a comic book.

Instead of judgment, however, Sam found Robert to actually be interested. "Well what do you do? Sing? Dance? Write songs? Play something?"

"Well, I sing mostly. I can play guitar pretty well too, I guess," Sam answered, trying his best to sound modest. "I was in my high school glee club the past two years."

Robert raised an eyebrow at the mention of glee club. "Well that's funny, because I used to be in my high school glee club, too. Of course, I did prop work. I can't sing for anything. I helped design props and flyers and stuff. It was a lot of fun."

Sam noticed that Robert seemed to be paying close attention to him, his eyes tracing Sam's features, glancing down on occasion to the rough hands of the former football star, as if examining them for quality. "Sorry, I wasn't meaning to creep you out," the marketing assistant chuckled, noticing Sam's discomfort at being looked over. "I just have a habit of paying excessive attention to detail. You can learn a lot about a person just looking them over." Sam wasn't sure what to say to that, so he retreated to his sandwich, chewing slowly to draw out the pause and cue Robert to pick up the conversation.

"By the way, I  _hate_  how Cyclops never stays dead. I can't stand him. Give me Storm any day of the week. Now  _she_  has power  _and_  personality," the slightly older man noted, nodding toward Sam's comic book and hoping to erase the awkwardness he had inadvertently created.

"You read X-men?" Sam asked, surprised.

Robert looked at him curiously. "Sure. I've been collecting them for ages. All the old stuff I got on a DVD in PDF. 'Forty Years of X-men.' Everything from nineteen-sixty three until mid two-thousand five."

"Seriously? That sounds  _awesome!_ " The blonde was suddenly very excited to discover that he wasn't the only person over sixteen who still had passion about comic books.

"Hell yeah I read X-men! X-men, Fantastic Four, The Avengers, you name it, I got it. It's my guilty pleasure," the collector said excitedly. The two men continued to discuss their passion of comic books for another several minutes before finally returning to talk of work.

"You made it sound like you're fresh out of high school. This your first job?" Robert seemed to be ignoring his own food, using it more as something to keep his hands busy rather than actually bring to his mouth to eat. Between getting to know his new associate and sharing in a common interest, he hadn't bothered to focus on his lunch very much.

"Second job. I used to deliver pizzas until I got mugged. That's when I decided it was time to look for something full time," Sam explained, reaching for his drink and bringing to his lips, nursing it.

The young marketing associate smiled and nodded. "Mugged? I doubt you'll get mugged here. I hope this ends up being worthwhile for you, though. You're in the right place if you want to start getting connections of some kind," he offered.

"I like it so far. It pays the bills. I can't complain," the blonde stated, shrugging. "I figure everyone has to start at the bottom and work up."

"Bills, huh? So do you still live with your folks, or do you have a roommate or something? Rent is way too high for you to be living alone," Robert asked unexpectedly. While it was a perfectly harmless observation and question, to Sam it seemed a little too personal.

"Something like that," Sam answered. Robert cocked an eyebrow once more, suddenly quite intrigued as to the meaning of that reply. "Uh you know, long term relationship kinda thing. We live together on our own." Sam's faced flushed a little as he struggled for words. He wasn't sure he wanted to lay out this kind of information to a stranger he had just become acquainted with, especially at work and bringing up these kind of topics often led to more questions. Things were much more comfortable when they were talking about comic books.

"Oh, okay. Long term is good. Too many people our age just hop from one girl or guy to the next," Robert laughed. "So what's she like, your girlfriend? I mean, is she into music and singing, or does she do something else?"

Sam was feeling more uncomfortable by the second, unsure of how to get past this conversation. What had started out as friendly idle chit chat had quickly become way too personal for his liking, but he knew Robert was just trying to be friendly, getting to know what he hoped was a new friend. At least that was the message Sam was drawing from his questions. He just hoped and prayed that Robert didn't ask if he had a picture of his 'girlfriend.' The only pictures on his phone were of himself and Rory, or his family. If he at least had a picture of Quinn, or any of the other glee girls, he could play it off. He opted for lying.

"Oh, uh yeah, singing," Sam responded, his face hot. He was a very bad liar, and if Robert asked anymore specifics, he'd have trouble dodging the queries. He'd be able to feel Robert's eyes on him, boring through into his brain to see the truth.

"That's cool. Keeps you two close. What's her name?," the man asked. Sam swallowed, knowing he'd never be able to play this off. Robert had apparently noticed his internal struggle, because he gave Sam a friendly smile. "Or I mean, if it's a  _boy_ friend, that's okay too. I was just asking out of conversation. Sorry if it's too personal." The way he emphasized 'boy' was a little unsettling: it was as if he somehow  _knew_  exactly what Sam was hiding.

The brown-haired man shrugged, but Sam felt cornered, as if he should answer anyway. "No, I just... Here, I'll just show you a picture. This is… this is my  _boy_ friend." Taking a deep breath, and hoping for the best, he unlocked his phone and started swiping icons until he found a picture of Rory. It was one of his favorites, from their lake vacation. Rory was holding up the fish he had caught, smiling happily. He gulped one more time, and then handed the phone to Robert.

"Oh, I get a picture? Cool," the man said. He looked at it for several seconds, beads of sweat forming on Sam's forehead as he began to worry. He should have just said his name and been done with it. What possessed him to show the man a picture? Pride. He was proud of Rory, not ashamed of him, and he enjoyed showing him off. It was almost like he was waiting for the chance to present a picture, but he should have just said his name and left it at that. He felt slightly more at ease, however, when the corner of Robert's mouth turned up into a smile.

"He's very handsome. What's  _his_  name?" Robert asked, referring back to his original question, but this time emphasizing the proper gender.

"Rory. He's Irish, and an excellent singer. Way better than me, that's for sure," Sam declared with newfound confidence. "We've been together a year. He's an exchange student, but… we're making it work."

Robert cocked his head in thought as he handed the phone back to the other man. "Well, Sam, that's pretty awesome." Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't been afraid that Robert might try and hurt him, he'd been afraid he might make trouble for him with his job, and he couldn't afford that right now. Instead, the other man seemed just fine with it.

The two men finished their lunches, trading stories about their glee club days. Robert stood up finally, and offered Sam his hand. "So, Sam, nice to see I have another nerd to talk about comics with," he said with a smile. "I gotta get back work though."

"Yeah, me too," Sam replied, shaking the man's hand firmly. "See you later!" They parted with smiles, Sam standing to tidy up the table before grabbing his comic book and putting it in his locker. It was comforting to make a friend at work, especially one who seemed gay-friendly. Or was he gay himself? Robert hadn't really said either way. Sam shrugged, then slid his phone from his pocket. The picture was still on there. He couldn't help but grin. He finally put his phone back in his pocket, turned off the light, and walked out to the hall to return to the workroom.

-ooo-

Rory was in the locker room, showering after a rather intense session of basketball in gym class. He was getting better and better, his height giving him a slight advantage. As per his new routine, he spent about ten to fifteen minutes doing a little extra solo practice, leaving the locker room practically empty by the time he was ready to shower. Ever since the commentary he had overheard, he had become incredibly self conscious and avoided showering with the other students if he could manage it.

"Uhm, hi," came a timid, familiar voice. Rory just barely heard it as his head was under the shower head, washing soap from his hair. It scared him at first but then he recognized who was speaking to him.

"Hi, Mitchell," Rory greeted the small redhead, rinsing his face of any lingering soap. "I didn't think anyone else was in here."

Mitchell averted his eyes, embarrassed at his sudden intrusion. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to talk for a minute," the boy said softly. Why Mitchell had chosen this moment to have a chat, Rory didn't know. Here he was, naked in the shower, while Mitchell stood dressed and dry all of five feet away just outside the shower zone, only the small divider between the two of them.

"Well, sure, but uh… can ye' let me finish up first? Talkin' in the shower is a little awkward, don't ye' think?" the slightly older teen suggested, not wanting the younger boy to feel like he was being brushed off.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think about that. We can talk some other time, sorry," Mitchell apologized profusely, blushing slightly.

"Don't be sorry. Just go sit on the bench next to me locker. It's number forty-two. I'll be out there in a minute, and we can talk," Rory offered. His curiosity was piqued.  _What does he want to talk about? Glee?_

The red headed boy nodded his head and scurried back into the locker room, still embarrassed. Rory quickly finished his shower, turning off the water and drying himself off with a towel before wrapping it around his waist. He trotted into the locker room, his flip-flops clapping loudly on the floor of the nearly empty room. When he arrived at his locker, Mitchell was sitting on the bench, a worried look on his face.

"So… what did ye' want to talk about?" Rory asked, cutting right to the point. He didn't have too much longer to get dressed and head off to his next class. He was digging through his locker, pulling out his shoes, followed by his jeans and shirt, socks and boxer-briefs.

"Well, I… I'm sorry to bother you, I-" Mitchell began, but Rory interrupted him.

"Wait, stop a second," the Irishman said. Mitchell's eyes widened, almost in fear. "Stop apologizing. Ye've done nothing to need to be apologizin' for. If ye' promise not to apologize for nothing anymore, keep going."

The redhead opened his mouth, almost apologizing again but catching himself before the words left his lips. "I wanted to… well, I wanted to ask you about… you, and Sam Evans." He shifted his gaze downward as if ashamed, which Rory took advantage of by slipping into his underwear without being watched.

"Okay. What do ye' want to know?" Rory eyed the nervous boy, who was wringing his hands and shuffling his feet beneath the bench. Mitchell opened his mouth several times as if he were going to speak, but hushed himself before expressing to Rory what was on his mind. "Mitchell? Are ye' gay?"

Mitchell seemed taken aback by the question, as if he hadn't expected it to be asked outright that way. He stared at his feet, his breathing speeding up slightly. Rory had hit the nail right on the head. "It's okay if ye' are. I am. Ye' can talk to me." Mitchell nodded slowly, keeping his head down.

Taking a cue from Sam when he was insisting Rory look at him, the taller boy reached down with his index finger, sliding it under Mitchell's chin and forcing the smaller boy to look up at him.

"It's okay, Mitchell. I won't tell anyone. It's our secret," Rory promised, smiling softly. He pulled his hand back, certain that the boy wouldn't look away. He didn't.

"Thank you. Thank you so much! I just had to tell someone! I- it was eating away at me, I feel like I've had to hide and I'm scared, but when I heard you were dating that boy, Sam Evans, I thought maybe you were safe to talk to, but I couldn't get up the nerve until now to say something," Mitchell blurted out in a blur of dialogue. "I mean, I'm sorry I came to you when you were in the shower, but nobody else was here and I didn't know when I might find you alone again."

Rory couldn't help but giggle. "I'm nobody to be afraid of, Mitchell. I promise, it's okay to talk to me. How about this? Why don't we be friends?" Rory hopped up just a moment to fit into his pants a little better before reaching for his shirt and pulling it over his head.

"Friends?" Mitchell repeated timidly.

"Sure. Friends. Friends aren't afraid to ask each other stuff. Friends feel safe with each other; they look out for each other. Friends don't judge ye', and they back ye' up. What do ye' think? Want to be friends?" Rory smiled at him, trying to ease the boy's nerves with his kindness. He wanted to make sure he was projecting sincerity to him, so he kept his gaze locked on him.

"That would be amazing!" the red head exclaimed excitedly. "So you don't mind if I ask you stuff? Or tell you stuff?"

"Of course I don't mind. It's what ye'r supposed to do when ye'r friends. Talk things out."

"There's so much I want to ask you, but I don't know if I should. Some of it's kind of private," the younger teen admitted, blushing and staring down at his feet again.

Rory smiled. "Just ask what ye' want, and I'll answer what I can. No judging, remember?"

"Okay," Mitchell replied, looking back up and smiling. "But… can I think about my questions first?"

"Yes. In fact, that's probably best, since I need to get to me next class. But uh, first, put my number in ye'r phone, in case ye' want to call or text me," Rory replied, waiting for the boy to pull out his phone before reciting his phone number. Mitchell sent him a quick text message so Rory could save his number as well.

As the two boys grabbed their schoolbags, they slowly walked out of the door back out to the gym, parting ways at the door to the school. Mitchell turned to thank Rory one more time before waving goodbye to him.

_That poor kid. He's so scared. I hope I can help him. Maybe Sam can, too. And Blaine. Maybe the three o' us can help him get comfortable with himself._

Rory's thoughts were interrupted by the vibration in his pocket. A new text message.

_Thanks again, Rory! I'm happy we're friends!_

Rory couldn't help but chuckle at the excitement the kid had. He quickly typed back a reply before stepping into his classroom.

_My pleasure. TTYL Friend_

-ooo-

Rory looked up from the computer terminal he was typing into upon hearing the jingling sound of the bell hanging on the door to the bookstore. He grinned widely when he recognized the customer as his boyfriend.

"Rory! Your hottie boyfriend is here!" Ginny called, despite the fact that she was standing right next to her coworker.

"Oh, he is? Tell him I'll be right there," Rory yelled back. Sam looked at them like they were nuts, shouting back and forth like they were miles apart. Rory stepped from behind the counter and smiled. "Hi, Sammy!" he exclaimed happily.

"You two are weird," the blonde chuckled. "Good to see you having fun at least. Ready to go?"

"Oh, he's been ready. In fact I thought he might run out of here screaming," Ginny replied for him. Sam furrowed his brow in curiosity. "I've been assaulting him with song suggestions for his audition. He's entirely too picky though. He didn't like any of my ideas."

Rory snickered and turned to face the girl. "That's because ye' suggested the Spice Girls. After that, I couldn't take ye' seriously." All three of them started to laugh at the absurd suggestion. "Time to go, Sammy. I'm hungry and the Spice Girl is scaring me," Rory finally announced.

"I guess you heard that, then," Sam replied, nodding toward the giddy woman. "Better take the kid home before he gets whiny. See ya later, Ginny," Sam joked, giving the girl a smile. Rory dashed back behind the counter, ducked down to grab his bag, and reappeared next to Sam.

"See you tomorrow Rory," Ginny said. She shifted her gaze to Sam and bid him farewell with a wink.

As soon as they were in the truck, out of hearing distance from anyone else, Rory began to giggle. "I think Ginny, she has those hots for ye'." He poked Sam in the chest as if accusing him of something.

"You do, huh? She's gonna have to get over it, then, since I've already been claimed," Sam smiled, taking hold of Rory's accusing finger and pressing his lips against it affectionately.

Sam let go, and shifted the truck into gear, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. On the way home, they both shared the details of their day, including the acquisition of their new friends.

"Maybe it'd be nice if we had them over one night. Ye' know, for dinner or a movie or something. What d'ye' think?" Rory asked, eager to not only meet Robert, but to introduce Mitchell as well.

"We could invite Sugar over again. Maybe this time she'll give us an entire new bedroom set," Sam joked. He had no real intention of taking advantage of the delusional girl, but he also wouldn't say no if she were offering free stuff, either. Well, as long as she understood Rory was off limits.

Rory rolled his eyes. Sam's joke got old rather quickly. Usually his wisecracks would elicit a chuckle at least, but whenever Sam joked about Sugar, the Irishman got slightly annoyed. It was only because he felt sorry for her. She needed attention from everybody, not just a boyfriend. He was still pushing for Artie to talk to her, to try and woo her. Artie had been down since glee fell apart, his cynicism and sarcasm having turned into bitterness.

"Maybe instead, we should try and get Sugar to go out with Artie," Rory suggested. "I just don't know how."

"Has he actually asked her out?" Sam asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

"I don't think so."

"Well, that might be a good start. She won't know he's into her if he doesn't tell her," Sam replied. "Maybe you should just accidentally mention it in front of her," he suggested slyly.

Rory was about to scold him for being sneaky, but they were interrupted by the sound of the  _Star Wars_ theme playing. Sam's cell phone. "It's ye'r parents," Rory stated, picking the phone off the seat and checking the caller ID. He slid his finger across the screen to answer it. "Hello?"

"Rory, is Sam there with you?" came the calm, level voice of Mr. Evans. It was the same tone he used the night he told Rory that Sam was at the jailhouse.

"Yes. He's driving. We're on our way home from the bookstore," the teen answered. "Is something wrong?" he asked, detecting the overly calm tone of the man's voice. Sam took his eyes away from the road for just a moment, glancing to see what was going on by Rory's reactions. He heard the boy finish the phone call and put the phone facedown in his lap.

"What's up?" Sam asked once Rory had hung up, a look of concern filling his green eyes.

"Dad says for ye' to call him when we get home," the teen said. Sam scrunched up his face, confused and not liking the sound of things. "We're almost home, Sammy. Just drive."

Sam sighed and pressed the accelerator just a little more than he should have, but he was anxious to get home and find out what was going on. If Rory knew, he obviously wasn't going to tell him, and Sam hated secrets, hated being left out of the loop.

Rory gazed out of the window, refusing to look in his boyfriend's direction. He didn't know what was going on, either, but he knew that whatever it was, Mr. Evans wanted Sam off the road when he told him. He also knew that if he looked over at Sam, the fear in his eyes would show itself.

The ride home lasted less than ten minutes, awkward silence filling the truck while Sam sped down the road. He pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, threw the truck into park, and practically jumped out of the vehicle. Rory was much slower, taking his time to amble out of the truck and follow Sam to the stairwell.

 _Please let everything be okay. Please let it be something stupid,_ Rory kept thinking over and over again. Sam was fumbling with the door key when Rory joined him in the hall. As he shut the door behind them, Sam already had his phone out, having dialed his former home number.

"Dad? What's going on? You're scaring me a bit," Sam said into the phone. There was silence as Sam listened intently to his father. Rory simply stood and watched him with concerned eyes, trying to read Sam's reactions. The boys had paced into the living room while Sam waited for his father to answer, and now they stood in the middle of the room. Sam was biting his bottom lip.

"W-was it… it was the… c-cancer, wasn't it?" Sam managed to ask. Rory didn't like the sound of that. Cancer was a death knell in his mind, and the way Sam's eyes were quivering, someone dear to him had suffered.

"I… I understand," Sam choked out. "Yeah, I'll talk to my boss in the morning." Rory gulped as he watched his boyfriend struggling to keep himself together. "Yeah, Blaine can take care of him," he said next. Rory cocked his head, wondering who Blaine would be taking care of. "I'll be okay. Yeah…. Uh huh. I'll tell him….. I love you, too, Dad."

Sam pushed the icon that terminated the call, his empty hand turning white in a fist. Before either boy could say anything, Sam hurled his phone onto the couch with brute force.

"FUCK!" he shouted, his tears finally flowing. Rory didn't ask any questions, but closed the small distance between them and wrapped his arms around Sam. His boyfriend was trembling, sobbing. Rory could feel hot tears falling onto his shoulder as he gently rubbed his back. "It's not fair…" Sam mumbled.

"What happened, Sammy?" Rory finally asked. There was no way he could properly bring him comfort if he wasn't even aware of what the actual problem was. "Please, tell me."

The older boy continued to tremble, his anger welling up inside of him. "My aunt. She's… gone," was all he could muster up before sobbing again.

Rory didn't ask any more questions. He was finally able to put the pieces together. Apparently, Sam's aunt had been fighting cancer, and must have lost the battle. There wasn't any need for Sam to go into detail right then.

"Come on, Sammy. Let's go lay down," the Irishman suggested, knowing that if Sam could at least lie in their bed and let his body relax a bit, he could let his emotions flow, and hopefully cry himself out until he fell asleep. He would just  _have_  to feel a little better in the morning.

Sam allowed Rory to take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. The Irish boy urged him onto the bed, sitting next to him. He reached down and slid Sam's shoes off, dropping them to the floor. He kicked off his own, turned, kicked up his own legs onto the bed, and lay back.

"E'erything will be okay, Sammy," Rory whispered, snaking his arm over Sam and pulling them closer together. "Just let it out, and let ye'rself tire." The blonde did just that. He cried, sniffled, and cried some more. Rory simply lay there with him, his arms squeezing tight.

The younger teen felt Sam's body trembling less and less, noticed his breathing slowing down to a normal rate. His sniffles were subsiding. He was tired. He was falling asleep. "I love ye', Sammy," Rory whispered into the older boy's ear. He had no desire to wake him if he had fallen asleep, but he would never let a day pass that he didn't utter those words to him, either.

After lying still with his slumbering boyfriend, Rory finally allowed himself to relax and willed himself to tiredness. He was afraid to let go, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy, not wanting to take away his security blanket for the moment. He would just end up with some extra sleep, and be ready to face the day a little sooner tomorrow.

 _God, please take care of Sammy and his family right now. Help them get through their pain. Help Stacy and Stevie understand what happened. Help them keep their spirits up even in sadness. Please, God, help Mom and Dad_ _stay strong. Sam and Stacy and Stevie need them now. Give them strength. And God, give Sammy the strength to face it. Please love him harder than you ever loved him before._ Rory said this silent prayer in his head, never forgetting that even if the church disagreed with him, God was still listening.

_Lord, please bless Mam and Pap, and Seamus. Keep them safe. I love them so much. Keep everyone at home safe._

Satisfied that he had covered everything for the night, he gave himself over to sleep, the dreamless slumber a welcome gift.

-ooo-

Rory rolled over and smacked the screeching alarm clock, accidentally pushing it into the floor. He sat up, reached down and picked it up, silencing the intrusive noise. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked over at the other side of the bed, noticing that Sam wasn't there. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and forced himself to get up. Around midnight, he had gotten up and stripped down to his boxer briefs, but when he went back to sleep, Sam was still in his jeans and t-shirt. Once he had fallen asleep, Rory dared not do anything that might wake him – including removing his pants. He couldn't possibly have slept very well in the thicker fabric.

Padding into the bathroom, Rory saw that Sam was standing in front of the sink, adjusting his tie. He was wearing dress pants, dress shoes, and a white button-up shirt, his hair combed neatly to the side. Rory could see in the reflection that his boyfriend's eyes were still red, his face flushed as well.

"Ye' look nice, Sam," the teen said softly. "Isn't it... early, though?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to upset the blonde with too many questions. Sam turned and gave him a weak smile, the sight of the other boy leaning against the doorframe bringing him a sense of comfort.

"The funeral will be this weekend. Today my parents are just going down there to... to help out with things. There's a lot to take care of. I just want to be there for support today," he replied simply. They met eyes, Sam's filled with sadness, Rory's with worry. He knew there was far more information Sam could disclose, but apparently he didn't feel up to explaining everything.

The Irishman stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the older boy, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry, Sammy. Ye'll tell me if I can do anything to help, right?" Sam nodded, the reply placating Rory's growing sense of helplessness about the whole thing. "How long will ye' be gone?"

"Just today. I'm driving down with mom and dad, then coming back this evening. Saturday we'll go down there again for the services. Might stay through the weekend, I dunno yet." Sam's answer came in a tone that was almost distant, as if he were reciting a speech that someone else had handed him at the last minute. Rory released him, standing back and staring into his eyes again. "Can Blaine-" Sam began to ask, but Rory interrupted him before he could finish. "Blaine can pick me up from work. He won't mind. He can take me to school tomorrow, too, so ye' can sleep in a bit extra."

"Thanks, but I'll be okay," Sam replied, giving another weak smile. "Go ahead and get ready so I can drop you off, okay?" he suggested. Rory nodded, finally turning away to head back into the bedroom to select his clothes for the day. Before he opened the closet, however, he picked his phone up off the desk and sent Blaine a quick text.

_Can you pick me up this morning? Will explain later._

He didn't want Sam to have to worry about anything more than necessary, and if he could save him one more chore, all the better. By the time he had finished choosing his outfit, Blaine had returned his message.

_Sure. you okay?_

Not wanting to alarm his friend, he typed back another quick message.

_Yeah, Sam just needs an early start. Thanks. Door unlocked. Hugs_ _!_

He dropped his phone back on the desk and poked his head out of the bedroom door, his eyes catching Sam sitting at the table, staring morosely at a bagel. "Blaine is goin' to pick me up this morning. So ye' can do what ye' need to do today and not worry about me. Take care of ye'r family."

Sam stood up and crossed the room in a quick stride, pulling Rory into his arms. "That's so thoughtful of you. You're amazing." He smiled at him as he let go of him - this time a genuine smile of appreciation. "I guess that means I can get a start out there, then."

Rory nodded. "Yeah. Ye' need to get going. I'm taken care of."

"I know," the blonde stated. "Like a boy scout - always prepared and ready." He hugged the boy one more time, then kissed him softly on the mouth. "I love you  _so_  much."

"I love ye' too, Sam. Drive safely, and text me when ye' get there, so I know ye' got there safe," the young teen instructed.

Sam gave him a nod and a fake salute. "Yes, sir!" He actually managed a slight giggle, something that he needed right then. Smiles, jokes, and laughter always made difficult situations just a little bit easier. He kissed the boy one more time, then turned to leave, checking his pockets for his wallet and keys. Before he pulled the door closed behind him, he called back into the apartment. "Finish my bagel? We can't afford to waste any!"

"I will!" he heard Rory call back from the bathroom. Feeling slightly better, Sam pulled the door closed and made his way to the staircase, reflecting on the fact that had the best boyfriend in the world: someone who understood he needed time for his family.

-ooo-

Blaine checked his watch as he stood at the door to Rory and Sam's apartment, waiting for an answer from his friend. When he didn't get one, he shrugged and opened the door, stepping inside. "Rory? You ready?" he called.

"Almost!" Rory called back. He hadn't expected Blaine to be so early, but then again, he forgot his friend liked to stop at the Lima Bean drive thru in the mornings for a cappuccino.

Blaine wandered further inside, deciding he may as well get comfortable on the couch while he waited. What he didn't expect was for the bedroom door to be wide open as he walked through the home.

"Be just a moment, ye' got here sooner than I thought," Rory explained, not thinking to actually close the door. Blaine turned toward the room to dismiss the statement, but when he did so, his friend had just started to pull up his underwear, giving Blaine a full view of the firm, round globes of his rear for just a moment.

"Oh, uh, sorry!" Blaine apologized awkwardly. He turned back around, his face flushing in embarrassment. Rory neither heard him nor noticed he had seen him. He was too busy humming a tune to himself.  _Why do I keep catching him naked? Well this time it was innocent, but last time I saw him getting it from Sam! They're my friends, I shouldn't be looking at them like that. Kurt is who I should be thinking about. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt._  He kept saying the name in his head over and over again, almost as if swearing at himself.

"Sorry I took so long, I forgot ye' like to get ye'r coffee in the morning," the younger teen apologized, bringing Blaine out of his self-scolding. He came rushing out of the room, his bag on his shoulder, his fingers quickly working the buttons on his shirt to finish closing it up. "All set now!"

The senior smiled innocently, averting his eyes and leading them outside of the front door. He paused a moment in the hall while Rory locked the apartment up, and they walked downstairs to his SUV. Once they were safely buckled in, Rory decided to explain what was going on.

"We found out last night that Sam's aunt died," he stated flatly. "He was so upset, he threw his phone and cried himself to sleep," he added, the worried tone returning to his voice.

"I guess they must have been very close," Blaine assumed. A look of confusion crossed his face when he noticed Rory shrug to his comment.

"I didn't ask questions. He was so upset, I didn't wanna make it worse. He can give me details later, but I didn't want to make him cry anymore. He was already so hurt," the Irish boy explained. His friend nodded in understanding, although he himself would have given his own boyfriend the third degree, just to get him to talk through his pain. Everyone dealt with sadness differently, however, and apparently this was how Rory and Sam chose to do it.

The two teens made small talk the rest of the way to school, stopping at the Lima Bean to pick up coffee before arriving at the prison for students known as McKinley High. Blaine quickly agreed to giving Rory the rides he needed, also wanting to help Sam in any way he could. He understood how it felt to lose a family member; he had lost both grandparents on his mother's side two years previous.

"Don't forget, I won't be at lunch today. Working on that project with Tina. I'll still take you to work and pick you up tonight, though," Blaine reminded him. Rory nodded, thanked him, and the two friends parted ways to their respective classes.

-ooo-

When Rory entered the cafeteria, the only person he saw sitting at their usual table was Artie. He knew Blaine and Tina weren't going to be there, but what about Sugar? This would have been a perfect chance for her and Artie to do some bonding. He returned the nod that Artie gave him, stopped by the lunch line to grab a carton of milk, paid, and joined his bespectacled friend at the table.

"Where's everybody at?" Artie asked right away, looking around.

"Blaine and Tina 'ave a project to work on. I 'aven't seen Sugar today," Rory replied, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He opened up his lunchbag and removed his sandwich.

"Her dad picked her up and took her to lunch. I'd be surprised if she comes back this afternoon though. Not the way her father is always whisking her away for whatever 'awesome' stuff rich people do," Artie said, sighing. He was obviously disappointed that she was not joining them—the one time each day when he got to spend any time with her.

Rory smiled knowingly. "Ye' really like her, don't ye'?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Everyone did.

Artie blushed slightly but then asserted himself. "Yeah, but I don't think she likes  _me_. She's after you. Anyone with a pair of eyes can see  _that_ ," he lamented.

"But I'm not interested, and  _ye'_ are. I bet if ye' asked her on a date, she'd say yes," Rory insisted. "Don't act like ye' can't do it. I've ne'er seen ye' back down from a challenge. No, not Artie Abrams." Rory was trying to play on the teen's ego. If he could get Artie on the defensive, he might just try to prove something and ask her out.

Artie scowled. "Oh, stop, Irish," he said. He seemed to think on it just a moment, however, and it was that simple moment that gave him an idea. "Well, maybe I should try. It can't hurt. I mean, I was dating Brittany for half a year. If a girl like her can go for a guy like me, maybe I  _do_  have a chance with Sugar. The question is, how do I go about this?"

The Irish teen scratched his head, deep in thought. He really had no idea how to woo a girl. The only thing he'd ever tried before was deception, and he did  _not_  approve of anyone doing that. Not after he learned his lesson. Not after he hurt Brittany, even if it did help push her along with Santana. Suddenly he had an epiphany.

"Sing to her! O' course! Catch her in the hallway, and sing to her!" Rory exclaimed excitedly. "It just  _has_  to work. It just has to," he insisted.

Artie nodded, thinking on it further. It sounded like a good idea. "You may be on to something there. If I can get her to pay attention and be wowed, she might just accept." He grinned, his eyes behind his glasses beginning to shine. A plan was forming in his head. "I have to make this spectacular. If I'm gonna do this, I gotta go all out."

"That's the spirit! Practice ye'r song tonight, and sing it to her tomorrow. I'll be nowhere in sight, so she won't be focused on anything but ye'."

Their conversation was interrupted by the timid voice Rory had begun to get used to. He always had to pay careful attention to the speaker because he was always talking so low, almost like he was afraid someone may actually hear him.

"H-hi, Rory. You said I could eat with you. Is that okay? I don't want to interrupt," Mitchell asked hesitantly, clutching his lunch tray nervously.

"O' course it is! 'Ave a seat," Rory said, smiling. "Artie, ye' remember Mitchell, right? He tried out for glee club."

"Oh yeah, I remember you. You did a great job, it sucks that we didn't get to show off a little more," Artie said, giving the boy a friendly smile. "Artie Abrams, in case you forgot." He held out his hand to shake – a gesture that reminded Rory of Sam.

Mitchell shook the boy's hand and smiled back. "Thanks. That's really nice of you to say," he said quietly. Having sat down, he quickly busied himself with taking out his lunch, not making eye contact, obviously nervous in the presence of his new friends.

"Uh, Mitchell?" Rory began, causing the boy to look up at him. "Don't be so nervous. We're ye'r friends now. Nothin' to be scared of," he said, noticing the slight shake that other teen had in his hands.

"S-sorry. New people make me a little uneasy."

"Kid, we may not be a glee club anymore, but we're still a bunch of friends. We're missing a few today because of projects and stuff, but we're still your friends. Calm down, relax, be easy," Artie encouraged the small teen. Rory gave a sigh of relief, pleased that Artie was being so accepting and supportive of his new comrade.

Mitchell nodded, trying to relax his nerves. "I've always been like this. Jittery. Anxious. I'm sorry."

"Quit being sorry. Just chill, right Rory?" Artie said, looking at the other boy for approval. Not wanting to make things any more awkward, he shifted the subject. "You're a sophomore, right?"

"Yeah. My first year here though. I transferred in," the red head explained. "I used to go to Thurston but then we moved."

The three boys continued with idle small –talk – Mitchell going on to tell them about his experiences at –Thurston: he was a professional loner, and while he'd been dying to join the school's glee club, he hadn't felt comfortable enough to try out. He was quite the academic, having a proficiency in science and history, but he had yet to make any friends at McKinley. At least until Rory and the rest of the former glee club. By the time lunch was over, Mitchell had felt much more at ease, and had even agreed to assist Rory with his chemistry and made a song suggestion for Artie to use when he serenaded Sugar.

-ooo-

_I'll be home around midnight. Don't wait up. Everything is fine. I love you._

Rory smiled at his phone, reading the text message twice. He hadn't heard from Sam all day, but on the way to work, he received the text and felt instantly better. He hoped that perhaps Sam would be up for talking about his aunt more once he had gotten home and slept, but he didn't want to push him, either.

"Rory, you seem quiet today, is everything okay?" Ginny asked after he had been at work for an hour. Usually when they stocked the shelves, they traded amusing banter, chatted about strange customers, or sing along to the radio, but today he was almost mute.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just worried about Sam. His aunt died yesterday. He's really upset," he replied sullenly. "I don't know really what to do. I ne'er had anyone die that I was close to."

Ginny looked pensive. "Well... I think the best thing you can do is to just give him lots of affection and make sure he knows he can talk to you. Of course, it should be like that anyway so I guess that isn't very helpful." She twirled her finger in the air dismissively, realizing that what she had said was rather pointless.

"No, that  _is_  helpful. Ye' basically just said I don't 'ave to do anything special. Just do what I always do," he countered. "It makes perfect sense." He smiled at her, his eyes shining for the first time all afternoon. "Thank ye'!"

Ginny chuckled and shrugged. "Sure, no problem. Anytime." After that, the silence was broken for the evening and they returned to their normal, playful selves.

Rory was ringing out a customer when he felt his phone vibrating on his hip. He quickly finished up and motioned to Ginny that he was going to the back for a moment. He quickly walked to the employee door and answered the phone. It was Sam.

"Hey, baby," Sam said softly. "How're things going?" The sorrowful tone in his voice was hard to listen to, but there was no way Rory wanted Sam to know he was worried about him. It would only upset him more.

"It's fine. Me shift is almost o'er. Blaine's coming to pick me up and we're going to the grocery store to visit the salad bar," the young teen informed him, trying to keep his tone cheerful.

After a pause, Sam replied. "Good. I'm glad he's taking good care of you."

"Are ye' on ye'r way home yet?" the Irishman asked. He was hoping that Sam was indeed on his way and that he might arrive sooner than he estimated, since Rory knew full well that he would never get to sleep worrying about his boyfriend on the road late at night.

"Yeah. Leaving in just a few minutes." Sam's voice was tired. He may as well have been a zombie speaking into the phone.

"Ye' sound like ye' might fall right asleep. Why not come home tomorrow?" Rory asked, preferring for Sam to stay overnight and drive after a good rest.

Sam sighed softly. "No, I'll be fine. I'm not as tired as I sound. I promise. I'm gonna grab some coffee to keep me going."

Rory huffed slightly. "I don't like the idea of ye' driving so late. Please be careful, and if ye' got to stop for a hotel, do it. I want me Sammy back home safe, ye' hear me?" Sam couldn't see him, of course, but the boy was standing with a hand on his hip as if lecturing a child. Sam mumbled some sort of affirmative. "Ye' better get here safe or else I'll be like me pap and get ye' right good with me belt! Ye'll be striped like a bass!"

The young teen suddenly heard the most wonderful sound he could have at that moment; laughter. Sam's laughter. Sam was laughing, which meant he was smiling. "I hear ya, babe. I'll get home safe. I've seen your belts: they look a little scary."

"Ye' better," Rory said seriously. He heard Sam on the other end trying to get himself under control. His little joke hadn't been  _that_  funny, but in times of sorrow, something that was mildly amusing could suddenly become the most hilarious thing in the world. "Get going. I love ye', Sammy. Come home to me."

"I love you too, baby. So much. I'll be home late, but I'll be home," the blonde assured him. He was about to sign off, but he stopped. "Thank you, for making me laugh. It's the first time I've smiled all day, and of course only you could do it."

Rory smiled on his end of the phone. "Anything to make ye' smile. See ye' in a few hours."

"You don't have to- aw hell, who am I kidding. You're staying up, aren't you?" Sam chuckled, knowing full well his boyfriend would be waiting anxiously for him to enter the apartment.

"Ye'r damn right. I love ye'. I better get back to work. Drive safe," Rory replied, hating to hang up, but excited to get him on the road and on his way back.

"Love you too, baby. Bye," Sam said, disconnecting the call. Rory gave a sigh of relief. He had been hoping to talk to Sam all day, but didn't want to call or interrupt him with more text messages. After taking a moment to get his head back together, Rory stepped back out to the public part of the store to finish out his shift.

-ooo-

After Blaine picked him up from the store, they stopped at the Fresh Market, made salads, and took them home to eat. Surprisingly enough, when he checked the mailbox before heading up the stairwell, they had a letter. It was addressed to him, and again the TGCP logo was in the top left corner.

Blaine went on to the table and sat down, unpacking his salad container. Rory wandered in after him, set his container down, and fumbled with the letter. Blaine watched intently as Rory's eyes moved back and forth across the paper, reading the words.

"What is it?" he finally asked.

"It says me audition has been moved. It's January fifth. That's not a lot of time to prepare," Rory answered. "I don't know if I'm ready for all this."

Blaine smiled and shook his head. "You're totally ready, Rory. You're one of the best singers I've ever heard. You have feeling and emotion when you sing. All you need is the right song, and you'll blow them out of the water."

"But swim season doesn't start until next semester," Rory responded, confused yet again. Blaine simply chuckled and put his hand on his forehead, looking down.

"One of these days, you're going to finally get the hang of American expressions."

Personally, the Irish teen thought he was doing quite well, since Americans had so many types of slang, it was so hard to keep up, but he had mastered some of it. He recalled thinking that trash talk was discussing trash, but Finn had explained its real meaning. He laughed at his memory, which Blaine assumed he was laughing at his reply.

"I'm just saying, you're ready. You can do this, and you can win it. Not just for the glee club, you know, but for yourself. It's not all about glee. This is a personal challenge, too," Blaine went on, staring Rory right in the eyes. "Just think – if you win this, you can be so proud of yourself. You'll prove that you have what it takes to be… to be a star!"

Rory smirked, sitting down at the table. Blaine had retreated to eating his salad, seemingly unnerved by their eye contact, something that his Irish friend was oblivious to.  _My God, he just reminds me so much of Kurt. The dark brown hair, the fair skin._   _The kind eyes. Why does he have to make me think of Kurt so much? It hurts, knowing he's states away and I can't see him. But every time I look at Rory, I see Kurt. Dammit._

"Blaine? Are ye' okay?" the younger teen asked, finally noticing something seemed off about his friend. "Ye'r starin' off into space. Ye' feelin' alright?"

The senior shook his head, bringing himself out of his daze. "Uh yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. Missing Kurt, you know, typical long distance blues." He tried to feign a smile, some sort of indication that he really was okay, but Rory wasn't buying it.

"He's coming back for the holiday, though, right?"

"Yeah. I'm so excited! He's gonna be back for three weeks! Three whole weeks!" Blaine exclaimed, suddenly brightening up. "I guess it just seems so far away."

He was greeted with the bright smile of his younger friend, the perfect toothy grin that admittedly, was much more beautiful than Kurt's. "That's only a week and a half away, ye' know. I can't believe ye' 'aven't been keeping track."

He was right. How could Blaine have forgotten? Kurt was coming home in less than two weeks and he hadn't even thought about it. Instead, he had spent all of his free time with Rory and Sam, trying to stay out of his sadness, and here the source of his despair was coming home, coming to spend time with him, and he didn't even realize how soon it would be happening. What the hell was he thinking?

-ooo-

It was well past midnight by the time Sam arrived home. Rory had attempted to stay awake to greet him, but Sam found him on the couch, fast asleep, the television playing reruns of  _The Simpsons._

 _He looks so cute laying there. I hate to wake him up, but he's gonna have aches and pains all day tomorrow if I leave him there,_ Sam thought. Hoping that perhaps the sounds he made as he unwound himself would wake the sleeping boy and he wouldn't have to worry about it. First, he picked up the remote off of the floor where it had dropped from Rory's hand, and turned off the television. Next, he walked to their bedroom and stripped down to his underwear.

Even after a trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he hadn't made enough noise to wake his slumbering boyfriend. He resolved to pick him up and carry him the short distance to the bedroom—and if he woke him in the process, then he woke him.

Sam knelt down next to the couch, sliding one arm under Rory's legs, and the other under his back. With a deep breath and a hefty lift, he managed to pull the boy into his arms. Sam was exhausted, and thankfully the bedroom was not very far. By the time he set foot through the threshold and reached the bed itself, he was ready to drop him. In fact, he did. Right onto the mattress.

Rory's body landed on the soft cushion of the mattress, the jolt pulling him from his sleep. "Wha- what's goin' on?" he asked sleepily. "Sammy? Sam is that ye' there?"

"Sorry about that. I meant for a better landing than that," the blonde apologized with a laugh. He bent down and kissed Rory on his soft lips – a gentle, innocent kiss to give him a proper greeting.

"Next time, just wake me up," the Irish teen mumbled. "Ow, I think I hit me head." He rubbed the top of his head, assuring himself that he had indeed made contact with the wooden headboard.

"Aww, I'm sorry babe," Sam apologized again. He pressed another kiss on the boy – this time on the top of his head. He stood back up and walked around to his side of the bed, sitting on the edge and then sliding his legs under the sheets. "Try to get back to sleep. We can talk in the morning." Rory was already yawning as his boyfriend spoke, the words barely registering in his head.

Feeling guilty for having dropped the teen, Sam promised himself that he would do something special for him to make it up to him. He wasn't sure what yet – perhaps bring him lunch, or a snack at work. Either way he would do something to ease his guilt.

The coffee had finally worn off, and it was around one in the morning when Sam closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.

-ooo-

Rory lay in Sam's arms, his body broken and bloody, with some sort of yellow and white muck oozing from the open wounds that decorated his skin. Sam was shouting at the top of his lungs for help, and finally Mr. Schuester arrived from seemingly nowhere. He tried to shake the teen out of unconsciousness, but there was no hope for him. He was fading fast.

Sam recognized their location: the high school gym. On the white wall were dark streaks of blood and whatever this yellowish muck was smeared down to the floor, where several pools of the crimson liquid streaked with yellow had gathered. The trail followed along the floor until it stopped at the dying teenager, a large, red puddle underneath his body, the golden gel changing color to something that resembled snot.

There was so much blood. Far more than any normal human being had in their body. Sam's jeans were soaked as he knelt down on the floor, every inch of his boyfriend splattered with red, yellow, white, and green. Sam was convulsing with sobs, the entire time Mr. Schue shaking the boy in Sam's arms, trying desperately to help.

Sam cried out for help again and again, but no more help came. Mr. Schue reached for his phone, but it melted into a black tar in his hand, burning the skin and adding tiny drops of clear ooze to the pool of red at his knees. The blonde teen screamed more and more, his vision distorted. All he could see was red, as if looking through bloody lenses.

Sam expected to see Azimio Adams, but instead he saw something more disgusting – a large amorphous blob making a squalling noise. He let go of his boyfriend and pressed his hands against his ears, trying to block out the noise. It was getting louder and louder, deafening. Just as Sam thought his head would explode, everything went silent. That's when he felt the sharp burn of a large blade being driven through his back, the tip protruding from his chest. He had been impaled from behind by a machete. His body poured more and more gore, spraying Mr. Schue, who collapsed for no apparent reason. Not only had he collapsed, but he was starting to change form – from a human man into another blob, something that smelled like rot. As Sam's vision because hazy, he looked around and saw every single one of his friends fall to the floor, pools of blood creeping from under their dead bodies and beginning to boil. Where had they come from? Why was the blood bubbling and streaked with… the same disgusting gel he had seen Mr. Schue turn into? As he pondered these questions, the bubbling liquid seemed to crawl up and over every body in the room except his own, each person melting into pure rot underneath it. He finally realized what it was – it was infection. It looked exactly how a wound looked when it had become infected and went untreated. An infection. Like cancer.

Sam woke up, sitting upright, gasping for air, his body covered in sweat and trembling. He felt like he was drowning, but within a minute, he got himself under control. He looked next to him and saw that Rory was stirring, possibly coming out of his second sleep of the night. What had spawned that horrible nightmare? It was his aunt who had the cancer, not Rory, not his friends. That didn't mean they couldn't develop it. That had to be it, fear. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around the boy, just wanting to know he was real, that he was safe and alive. He felt him turn over, and Sam simply squeezed a little tighter. Satisfied that he was going to be all right, he lay back again and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to fall back asleep, praying that he wouldn't be revisiting the dream anytime soon.


	36. Episode 36: Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Sorry it has taken so long for this chapter. Aside from writer's block and The Purge, I have been working on other projects as well (A Glee/True Blood crossover) and just been plain lazy.  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Sam started his new job, and Rory seems to have acquired a 'mentor' status for Mitchell. Ginny tried to help Rory with suggestions for his audition, and on the way home, Sam found out his aunt passed away, giving him nightmares about cancer killing his friends and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 36: Goodbye**

Since coming back from his day trip with his family, he hadn't said much at all. It wasn't because he was upset with Rory, or with anyone really, he was just sad, and Sam's way of dealing with sadness was to just keep to himself. Considering the fact that Rory hadn't really seen much of this side of Sam, he began to become concerned.

"Sammy?" Rory began, snuggling up in his arms on the couch, the TV playing a rerun of some show about a group of people stranded on an island, using coconuts as dishware and pineapples as walkie talkies.

"Hmm?" Sam replied quietly. He sounded tired, despite the fact he had slept in until ten.

"I don't want ye' to think I don't care, but in case ye' were wonderin', I 'aven't asked a bunch of questions because I can see how much it upsets ye'. I just wanted ye' to know that. Ye' don't 'ave to talk about it if ye' don't want to, but…" Rory paused a moment, wanting to choose his words carefully. "Will ye' tell me about ye'r aunt? Ye' seem so upset, so she must 'ave been very special to ye'."

Neither boy spoke for a couple of minutes, Rory figuring Sam was exercising his right to not discuss it, but just as the episode ended and the credits began to roll, the elder teen reached his hand down to the floor, picked up the remote, and muted the television.

"We used to be real close. When I was a kid, she watched me all the time while mom and dad were at work. She'd take me places like the zoo, the playground, the water park," Sam told him wistfully. "Then she moved, and we moved, and Stacy and Stevie were born, and we just kinda lost touch for a while. We saw her a couple times a year maybe, but… I could have made more effort to see her."

Rory felt a few tears dribble onto his cheek from Sam's face. He shifted himself so that he could brush the tears from Sam's eyes, and kiss him tenderly, one hand gently stroking his chest. "She sounds like a wonderful person. Like ye' had a lot o' fun with her. I bet it made her very happy to be with ye' all that time." He couldn't think of much to say that didn't sound depressing, and he started to wonder if he should even have asked at all, but when he felt Sam squeeze him—moving to wrap his arms around him—he was glad he did.

"Yeah, I just wish I had seen her more in the past few years. Especially since she had gotten cancer. Oh God, she fought so hard," the Evans boy continued on. "She beat it, but it came back. It came back really bad. Fast. And…"

The Irish teen turned his head and reached up to place a finger on Sam's lips. "Shh… it's okay. I bet she doesn't feel any kind of regrets. I bet she was happy just knowing ye' were out there being a happy teenager."

Sam didn't say anything, just squeezed the boy tighter for comfort. He sniffled, blinking back more tears, then eased up. "Yeah. She's happy now, though. She's with God, where she belongs," he said confidently, a very slight smile pulling on his lips. He reached down and fingered the remote, allowing the volume to rejoin them. This time the rerun was about a talking horse. In an attempt to lighten the mood a little, Sam informed his young boyfriend that the horse was given peanut butter to make it look like it was talking. The random piece of trivia made the Irishman laugh, both at the factoid and that his boyfriend even knew it in the first place. However, at the mention of peanut butter, the younger teen had gotten a glint in his eye and zipped off to the kitchen, Sam fully aware of what the boy would return with. Sure enough, five minutes later, Rory returned to his position in Sam's arms, holding a plateful of peanut butter crackers and a grin a mile wide.

-ooo-

Sam got up early Sunday morning to leave for the funeral. It was at one, and with a several hour drive ahead of him, he needed to get going early. What's more, he needed to stop by his former home to pick up his younger brother: Stevie had been dying for some time with his big brother, and the only way to get some one on one time was to agree to let Stacy have the older blonde to herself on the ride back home. The adults weren't thrilled with the idea of having the kids along at all-the idea of exposing the youths to such a sad event not settling well with Mr. and Mrs. Evans, but getting a sitter for three days was a bigger challenge than they felt like dealing with on top of everything else. Rory even offered to watch them, but Sam nixed that idea before he could even propose it to his parents. One of the agreements they had made was that Rory not miss out on school, and Sam was determined to make it apparent that he wasn't allowing him to skip out, even in the current situation.

"Are ye' sure ye' don't want me to come with ye'?" Rory asked for the third time as he fingered the necktie he'd chosen for Sam to wear to the funeral. Sam sighed, annoyed. "Okay, I'm sorry," the boy apologized, picking up the hint. Sam took the black tie and pulled it around his neck, adjusting it in the bathroom mirror. Rory continued to watch him from the lid of the toilet where he was sitting.

"I'll text you when I get there," the elder said flatly. "Fuck, I don't wanna do this," he finally admitted. He leaned on the sink, hanging his head and grumbling. Rory stood up, putting his hand on Sam's back.

"It's gonna be okay, Sammy. Ye' can do this. Mom, Dad, Stacy, Stevie, they're all gonna be with ye'. Ye' won't be alone." He could feel his boyfriend tremble slightly under his hand. He swallowed back his own stresses, knowing he needed to stay strong and supportive. If Sam saw him upset, it would only put more pressure on him.

Gathering himself up, Sam stood up, feigned a smile in the mirror, and stepped through the bedroom and to the kitchen. Rory had set out a glass of juice and a pop tart for him so he had a little nourishment before he left. He drank half the juice, took three bites out of the pastry, and sighed yet again. He didn't notice that Rory had followed him and was watching him silently.

"Sammy… be safe on ye'r drive. Try to enjoy the time with Stevie and Stacy. I know they miss their big brother. They need something to cheer them up, and maybe it'll get ye'r mind off of things, cheer ye' up too." Rory offered, breaking the tension.

"They miss you too, ya know," Sam replied gently. It was the first time all morning he showed any emotion outside of annoyance or despair. He turned from the counter and closed the distance from his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him. "We gotta spend more time with them after I get back."

The younger teenager nodded in agreement, his hair tickling Sam's cheek. "What are you gonna do while I'm gone?" the blonde inquired as he released Rory from his arms.

"Probably hang out with Blaine. Maybe Tina, too. I think she's starting to get a case of the lonelies," Rory replied. "I'll be fine. And I won't skip school. I promise." He grinned, putting his hand over his heart as a symbol of honesty.

Sam ruffled his boyfriend's hair and gave the first genuine smile he had in a few days. He kissed him, and then walked past him toward the door where his overnight bag was waiting for him.

"I better get going. Still need to pick up the wild child," Sam said, attempting a joke to lighten his mood. At least Stevie would bring some cheer to him – his younger brother was a big clown with an excitable personality; there was no way Sam could be sad around him. "I love you."

"I love ye', too," the Irishman replied, kissing him one more time and walking him to the door, closing it behind the blonde once he'd disappeared down the hall. Rory sighed, walked back to the kitchen, and finished Sam's juice and the rest of the pop tart. It was a little after seven in the morning, but he was too awake to go back to sleep. Having finished the rest of his boyfriend's breakfast, he trudged into the living room and plopped down on the couch, picking up the remote from the cushion. The only things on TV were some more reruns of the island show and the horse show, so he settled in and watched until he fell back asleep.

-ooo-

_I do_ not _want to do this,_  Sam sighed, pulling into the driveway of his parents' house. He still had a few hours to go before even arriving at his aunt's and he was already dreading it. All of her side of the family would be there, many of which he didn't know very well, and that always made him a little uncomfortable. Thankfully, Michelle would be there, and she had a knack for cheering him up.

Before he could even turn the truck off, Stevie came dashing out of the house, the door slamming shut behind him, his navy blue suitcase dragging behind him. "Sammy!" he cried out. By then, Sam had unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door, and hopped out of the truck. Stevie dropped his suitcase and tackled his big brother, throwing his arms around him.

"I'm glad to see you, too, buddy," Sam smiled at his brother. It was right then that he realized just how much he missed seeing them every day. They got along quite well – more than most siblings—and it was quite a change for all three of them. A change that he hadn't taken notice of quite as much since he had been busy with work, and had Rory to focus on.

"I got so much to tell you about, Sammy! We're gonna have so much fun on the way!" the small blonde exclaimed happily.

"Okay, well go ahead and get in the truck, I'm gonna say hi to Stacy, too. She's riding with mom and dad on the way down," Sam explained. "Got everything you need out of your bag for now?"

Stevie reached down into his bag, feeling around the outside pocket, and pulled out a small case. It was his 3DS. "All ready! Hurry up, Sammy!" the boy urged. Sam rounded the truck and opened the passenger door, waited for the small boy to climb inside. He reached over and helped him with his seat belt and then shut the door.

Sam sighed and trudged up to the front door. He didn't bother knocking – his father was already on his way out. "Hey, dad," he said quietly. His dad greeted him back and put his arms around him in a fatherly embrace. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay, about as can be expected, I guess," his father answered glumly. He wasn't his normal, joking self, making wisecracks and grinning constantly. It had been his sister who passed. The look on his face was heartbreaking.

"It's gonna be okay, dad. We just have to make it through today. It's the hardest part. Or at least that's what everyone says," Sam said, attempting comfort. His voice was just as glum, sighs coming after every other sentence. The two men stood in awkward silence, interrupted only by Stacy's squeals of excitement.

"Sammy! Sammy!" she cried, jumping up into his arms. She nuzzled her head in his chest lovingly. "I miss you so much Sammy! You never come see us!" She was laying the guilt on thicker than a Catholic priest.

"I know, I'm sorry. I promise once we get back, I'll bring Rory over and we'll visit more often, okay?" he said to her, hugging her back. "You get to ride with me all the way home though, right?"

"Right!" she agreed, leaning back and poking her finger in his chest. "And no getting out of it!" Sam smiled at his little sister. She still had her spunky personality. He eased her back on her feet and ruffled her hair.

"I guess I better get going. I'm pretty sure Stevie is gonna want to stop for 'you know what' on the way out," Sam said quietly to his father, referring to the large stuffed pretzels from the Wawa near the interstate.

His father chuckled lightly. "Probably so. We'll see you there, son. Drive safe, and don't let the squirt drive you too crazy." Before Sam could reply, his mother emerged from the door, her face lighting up upon spotting her firstborn.

"Sam, you look so handsome," she said, throwing open her arms for a hug.

"Thanks, mom. You look beautiful," he replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek and leaning in to her arms. "I was just getting ready to leave."

"And not say hello to your mother first? Shame on you," she teased. He could tell she was trying to keep in good spirits as well. Sam just gave her a mischievous grin. "Go on, you boys get out of here. You need a head start, Stevie wants his p-r-e-t-z-e-l." They continually tried to keep from Stacy the fact that  _Stevie_  would be getting one of their favorite treats and  _she_  wouldn't since she had a habit of tummy troubles if she ate on a car trip. The small girl looked up and scowled at her mother, the secret not lost on her.

Sam knelt down in front of her. "Tell you what. I'll pick up an extra one just for you, and when we get there you'll have something special waiting for you," he promised. He knew his little sister wasn't as clueless as his parents pretended. She squealed in delight and launched herself at him, hugging him again.

"Alright guys, see you there," Sam said, standing and walking back toward the truck, waving at them. Stevie was still strapped inside, waving his arms wildly at his family. They waved back and watched as Sam got back into the vehicle, waved one more time, and strapped himself in, turned on the truck, and backed out.

"Alright buddy, let's get this show on the road," Sam said, giving his brother a grin. "First stop, Wawa for your pretzel."

"Awwww yeah!" Stevie cried excitedly. He started out the window, anxiously awaiting the familiar gas station while babbling on to Sam about his latest achievements at school. The ride was going to be a long one, but Stevie would make sure he wasn't bored.

-ooo-

Rory woke up a couple of hours later, groggy from having passed out on the couch. He was still in a tee shirt and boxers, and quickly noticed that he had something he needed to attend to.

The boys hadn't had sex in over a week, Sam not being in the mood and Rory not even thinking about initiating it when he knew Sam was in such despair. Mourning was not the appropriate time to proposition someone for sex, even if that someone happened to be his loving boyfriend. At least now that he was alone for a couple of days, he wouldn't feel guilty about watching a little adult entertainment and tending to himself. Strangely enough, if Sam were home, he felt awkward about watching porn. Sam should be more than enough to turn him on, but of course if he wasn't around, then porn was perfectly okay to get him going.

Making his decision, he padded into their bedroom, where the desk and computer were located. He had been thinking about suggesting they move the desk into the second bedroom and turn it into some sort of recreation room: a place for Sam to play his guitar, or Rory to do his homework, and so forth. When they could afford it, they could buy sound absorbing panels to tape onto the walls to help with the noise. Maybe if they had another table of some sort, Sam would take up his model making again.

Putting the mundane things out of his mind, he stripped off his tee and boxers, dropping them to the floor. He sat down on the chair, which was cold to his bare butt, and brought the computer out of sleep mode. He didn't have anything saved on the hard drive, and didn't feel like waiting around for something to download, so he opted for X-Tube, a site for amateurs to upload videos of themselves and share them with their fellow pervs.

Rory started to click around, navigating to the section for gay men. Right on the main page was a random selection of videos. One of them caught his attention right away. It showed a screenshot of two guys around Sam's age. One of them looked to be restrained somehow to the bed, a blindfold over his eyes. The other boy was holding something, but Rory couldn't tell what it was. Curiosity overtook him and he clicked on it.

A couple of minutes later, the video had buffered and loaded up, ready to view. He pushed 'Play' and silently watched the events on the screen. One of the boys was blonde and well built, the other brunette and slim. The brunette was standing in front of the blonde, who was reaching up and tying a black cloth blindfold around the slimmer boy's head. He adjusted it until he was certain the boy couldn't see, and then put his hands over the boy's shoulders and pushed down, the brunette descending to his knees. The blonde demanded for him to 'Suck my cock, bitch,' and without waiting, held onto the dark haired boy's head, shoving his large erection into the waiting mouth.

The subservient guy choked a little bit, but his head was held in place until the blonde started to thrust in and out of his face vigorously. He was drooling all over himself, but the blonde was obviously loving making his smaller framed lover messy with saliva and precum. By this point, Rory had let his left hand trail down to his crotch, idly playing with his hardening organ.

The blonde finally stopped thrusting into the other's mouth, pulling his erection out and smacking the boy in the face with it. The gesture was actually funnier than it was arousing, but it lasted only a moment as the muscled guy forced the blindfolded guy onto his feet and shoved him roughly backwards onto the bed. The blonde approached him and quickly turned the boy over, reaching down to spread the smooth, firm cheeks. Without waiting for any kind of response, the blonde's face dove right between the two globes, flicking his tongue in and out of the pink hole.

The brunette was writhing about, mewling in pleasure as he ground his dick into the bed, with his ass being orally assaulted from above him. This went on for several minutes, the blonde becoming more and more aggressive as the other boy cried out, 'Eat me, sir, eat me, eat me!' Rory rolled his eyes, wishing the guy would shut up – cornball porn talk was always annoying, and the primary reason why he preferred amateur videos was its absence—well, its near-absence, apparently.

Rory had moved from idly fiddling with himself to actually gripping his dick and slowly sliding up and down, running his thumb over the head as he stroked. There was already a drop of precum forming, making it nice and slick for his thumb. The sensations made his legs tingle slightly.

When the bigger man was finished with his 'work' he roughly repositioned his boytoy until he was spread eagle on the bed. The man took several pieces of rope and tied each limb to a bedpost. He then took what looked like a balled up pair of underwear and shoved it into the smaller man's mouth, gagging him.

The blonde crouched down so his face was hovering over the other's cock, teasing it by licking just the very tip. He spent a good ten minutes teasing his partner, over and over, the bound boy mewling through the gag. When the blonde finally decided enough was enough, he plunged his face down onto the cock throbbing in front of him, sending the smaller boy into hysterics of pleasure.

As he continued to watch, Rory's cock throbbed more and more, the stroking of his hand speeding up. He reached down with his other hand and started to tug on his balls, massaging them between his fingers. He didn't notice the faint moans escaping his lips as his eyes stayed mesmerized on the screen.

The two boys had finally moved on, the smaller still tied to the bed by his arms, but the bigger, blonde boy having untied his legs and pushed them up against the other's chest, exposing his opening. The bigger man had knelt down on his stomach and was licking the pink pucker, slathering it with spit. Rory didn't see the actual point of penetration as he had closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair, giving in to the feelings in his crotch. He sped up, stroking with reckless abandon. When he opened his eyes again, the two men onscreen were fucking crazily, the blonde taking no mercy on the brunette. He was thrusting into him so hard that the boy's head was hitting the headboard and the headboard against the wall, and between blinks of his eyes, Rory saw the small boy get the cum fucked right out of him without either person touching his organ. Thick ropes of seed splattered against the brunette's chest as the blonde reached forward and yanked the gag from his lover's mouth. He pulled himself out of the abused hole and leaned up and over, aiming his dick at the brunette's face and with a few quick jerks, was spraying his own seed all over the prostrate boy's face.

Rory's orgasm came just as the second man was experiencing his own, Rory's balls tensing up and exploding out through his head. He breathed a sigh of relief, biting his bottom lip as his head swam. By the time he had gotten his faculties back about him, the video had ended. He wiped the seed from his fingers onto his chest, and reached for the mouse. He navigated the menu until he found the selection to save the video to his hard drive.

_I wonder if Sammy would try that with me. Not the crazy stuff, just tying my hands and legs to the bed. I could_ maybe _tolerate the gagging, but only if it was his boxers. But I want him to see this, see what he thinks._

A sly grin passed the teen's face as he thought about Sam sitting at the desk. His eyes glued to the screen, touching himself and asking if he could tie Rory up. Yes, this was definitely something to propose to his boyfriend, but after he was feeling better.

"Yuck. I need a shower. And I'm hungry. I wonder if Blaine wants to get up for lunch," the teen muttered to himself. He quickly sent Blaine a text, inquiring if he cared to join him for lunch. A minute later, a reply came across the screen.

_Sure. Let's invite Tina too. She's having Mike withdrawals_ _._

Rory smiled. Poor Tina, he had overlooked her loneliness and hadn't made much effort to hang out aside from seeing her at the cafeteria.

_Good idea. Give her a ring_ _, I need a shower._

Not even a full minute later he got Blaine's reply.

_Gotcha. Be at your place in 30_

A half hour was plenty of time to shower and clean up. He gave the room a cursory glance to make sure nothing was left out that his friends needn't see – there wasn't.

_Door unlocked. See you then. Hugs_

Double checking to make sure the website was closed and the video clip was filed away in a movie folder, he padded into the bathroom for a quick freshening up before his friends arrived.

-ooo-

Like clockwork, a half hour later Blaine was politely knocking on the door, Tina at his side. Rory opened the door, smiling brightly at the sight of the duo.

"I left the door unlocked, ye' could just come in," Rory said, closing the door after them as they walked inside.

"I know, it's just polite to knock first," Blaine countered with a shrug.  _And I don't want to catch you with your pants down…again… and again,_  he added mentally.

"Hey Tina. It's nice to see ye'," Rory said, leaning forward to hug the senior girl.

"Good to see you, too, Rory," she replied. "We haven't hung out in a long time." She began to pace through the home, looking around. "It looks great in here. Nice and cozy." While it was indeed cozy, it was nothing spectacular. It was clean, the couch had been moved into place against the wall, and everything else the boys had received from the housewarming was put up; however, there wasn't exactly much for decoration.

"Thanks. We 'aven't gotten anything to put on the walls or anything, but we 'aven't really looked, either. I don't think we're good at that stuff anyway," Rory replied.

Tina and Blaine exchanged excited glances. "Well, we can definitely amend that, right Blaine?" she asked, nodding enthusiastically. "We'll get lunch first, and then go shopping. Between the two of us, we can find you something to put up on the walls."

The youngest teen shrugged. "Okay. I don't 'ave much money though. I spent most o' mine."

"That's okay. We don't need a lot. In fact, it might be cheaper to  _make_  something to put up," Tina replied. "It can be more fun, too. A whole project!"

"Sounds like we know what we're doing today," Blaine nodded. "Let's go eat first. I'm hungry. You guys good for some sushi?"

"Sue she?" Rory asked skeptically. "But what does Sue 'ave to do with food?"

Tina and Blaine both giggled. "Not 'sue she'. Sushi. It's Japanese fish and rice rolls," Blaine explained. Rory didn't say anything, he merely grinned sheepishly.

"You've never tried it I take it," Tina observed. "Well, we're gonna change that today. Sushi it is"

The three teens decided to try the sushi bar in the mall, walking outside, locking up, and hopping into Blaine's SUV.

-ooo-

Stevie had finished the last of his pretzel, licking his sticky fingers clean of cream cheese. "Don't get any of that on the seat, buddy. Use those wipes in the glove box," Sam instructed gently.

"Okay, Sammy," Stevie replied, reaching forward and unlatching the box. He reached inside for the container of hand wipes and popped it open. "Sammy, how come Mr. Rory didn't come with you?"

Sam had been expecting this question to pop up sooner or later. "Because he has school, and…"

"But mom and dad let  _me_  miss school. Why can't he? It's only for a couple days," the young boy argued.

"Well, uh, I guess because he isn't family," Sam finally stated. Stevie didn't approve of that answer one bit.

"He is so!" Stevie shouted unexpectedly. "Mr. Rory is too part of the family! He's my big brother, too!" The child had gone from care free and happy to quite agitated within the space of a breath, his small hands shaking in anger. "He is too, Sammy! He is…"

Sam sighed. "I'm sorry buddy, I didn't mean it that way," he apologized. "I just meant that… he isn't related to the extended family the way he is to us. It's different. To the rest of the family, it might seem inappropriate for him to be there, and he didn't know Aunt Lily."

The young boy started to calm down, mulling it over. "Don't  _ever_  say Mr. Rory isn't family again, Sammy. If you do, I'll…. I'll beat you up good." His threat wasn't to be taken lightly. The look of seriousness on his face told Sam that he was not to be tempted.

The elder reached over with his right arm and ruffled Stevie's hair. "I'm sorry, buddy, Really. I just said it wrong. Rory is just as much part of our family as you and me, okay?" He took his eyes from the road long enough to gaze at the boy and take in his features. Stevie was giving this really deep thought, as if he might not trust that his older brother was being honest with him.

"You can have my pretzel if you want. I don't want you to be mad at me," Sam offered. He watched the boy out of the corner of his eye, Stevie's mouth moving around in a thoughtful manner. "It's all yours if you won't be mad at me anymore…" Sam urged. He pushed the bag with the soft pretzel toward his brother.

Deciding that being mad wasn't worth the loss of a pretzel, the young boy snatched up the bag and took out one of the remaining two treats. The other was his sister's, and he knew full well that if she didn't have one waiting for her, there would be hell to pay, and Stacy was  _not_  one to anger.

"Forgive me?"

Stevie stopped chewing long enough to nod his head and smile at his older brother. Sam held out his hand and the boy tore off a small piece of his treat and placed it in the teen's palm. Sam put it to his mouth and scarfed it down, then set his hand back down. This time, instead of a piece of food, he was met with a loud smack as his brother gave him a 'low five'. They both laughed as Sam ruffled the boy's hair again. The rest of the trip was filled with jokes, stories, and singing; though it was obvious Stevie wasn't following his brother's footsteps in terms of vocal talent.

-ooo-

Tina, Blaine, and Rory sat at the sushi bar, the chef working away at preparing orders. Behind the clear guard between the bar and the work area, they could see various cuts of raw fish, octopus, squid, shrimp, and a multitude of spices and seasonings.

"What do I order?" Rory asked skeptically, looking over the names on the slip of paper in front of him. "It all sounds the same. A bunch of fish wrapped in seaweed."

"Oh trust me, it's not. It's all different. Here, let me see your sheet, I'll find you something good," Tina said. Rory shrugged and handed her the piece of paper and watched as she quickly perused the selections, marking three of them with her pencil. "We'll each order different stuff and share, then we can try a bunch of stuff."

Blaine nodded, filling out his own sheet. Tina slid Rory's completed sheet back to him while focusing on her own. The waitress returned a moment later with their green tea and took their order slips.

"Now here comes the best part," Tina explained. "We get to watch him make it. It's like watching the cooking channel, but cooler because it's in person, and we get to eat it."

Blaine nudged Rory gently in the side. "Don't forget, you're supposed to tip the chef, too. There's a jar at the end there, you slip your cash in there for him," he whispered. "Now just watch."

All three teens sat mesmerized at the bar, watching through the glass as the chef selected the desired cuts of seafood, chopped them into shape, and worked his fingers quickly to wrap them with seadweed and other vegetables, topping some of them off with sauces, packing others with rice, and putting small globs of green paste on the end of the plates.

The sushi chef placed the dishes on the top of the bar for the teens to take and eat. Tina immediately took hold of her chopsticks and started to arrange the food in even portions so they could each try a bit of every item they ordered.

"Start with that one," she suggested, pointing to something with her chopstick. Rory screwed up his face as he stared at it. Deciding it best to go ahead and get it over with, he picked up the chopsticks, fiddling with them until they were lodged between his fingers.

Rory couldn't get the hang of holding the chopsticks properly, eliciting giggles from his friends. Frustrated, he took one stick in each hand and was about to try and lift the sushi that way when Blaine stopped him.

"Hold it like this," he said, taking Rory's hands and placing the sticks between his fingers properly. "Don't squeeze so hard. Relax your fingers. Okay, now pinch like this..." Within a couple minutes and Blaine's assistance, Rory finally managed to pick up the piece of seafood that Tina had pointed to. He almost dropped it before it reached his mouth, but a swift movement and he stuffed it into his mouth. Both of his friends were staring at him, waiting anxiously for some kind of reaction.

Seconds ticked by as Rory slowly chewed. Then swallowed. Then smiled. "That's really good," he finally said.

"I told you! Now try-" Tina began, but Rory was already selecting his next item. "No! Don't eat that all at once!" she cried as she watched in horror as her friend lifted the thick paste from his plate and brought it to his lips.

Blaine saved Rory from himself and grabbed his arm, pulling downward, causing the startled Irishman to drop his utensils back onto the plate. "Hey, what're ye' doing?" He asked, snatching his arm back from Blaine.

"Saving you from eating pure fire," Blaine replied with a sigh of relief. "It's called wasabi, and you don't eat it all at once. You put just a tiny bit on your sushi roll. And I do mean tiny bit. It's  _very_  hot."

"That's why there isn't very much on there. You don't need a lot. Here, put a tiny dab on that piece right there," the Asian girl instructed, pointing to what looked like a tiny wheel of rice and fish. He did was she told him, putting the tiniest dap of wasabi paste in the middle and then picking it up, placing it in his mouth.

Rory's eyes watered just a little bit, and by the time he swallowed it down, he was chugging the glass of water that the waitress had brought when she first seated them. "That's really hot!" he exclaimed.

"Now imagine eating that whole wad of paste at one time. It would be colder to just put pure hellfire on your tongue," Blaine commented. "Now try the rest of it. You don't need to eat anymore wasabi if you don't like it."

The young teen shook his head. "I think I'll pass on that. Ye' shouldn't eat something that looks like snotty paste anyway." Tina and Blaine both looked disgusted as they watched their friend pick up the next piece of sushi. Oddly enough, neither of them had any more wasabi, either.

-ooo-

Sam arrived shortly after his parents and Stacy, the young girl anxiously awaiting her doughy morsel. She wasted no time in gobbling it down, having not eaten breakfast. Stevie ran off to join his cousins near his age, Stacy hot on his heels the second she finished her pretzel.

Mr. Evans joined a small group of men near the casket, apparently discussing their task as pallbearers. Mrs. Evans had retreated to the rest of the female family members - the wives of the pallbearing men. They chatted in a hushed tone, as if speaking at normal levels in front of the dead was inappropriate.

"Hey, cuz," a feminine voice cooed into Sam's ear, an arm wrapping around his shoulders from behind. It was Michelle, her light brown hair tied up in a fancy bun, wearing a black business suit that she obviously was not comfortable in. "Damn, these shoes hurt," she complained, wiggling her feet inside her high heels.

"Hi, Michelle. Good to see you again," Sam said, turning to give her a proper hug. "How are you?" he asked.

She steadied herself on Sam's shoulder as she picked up her foot and adjusted her shoe. "I hate these things. Anyway, I'm doing alright. Not enough sleep, though. Too much schoolwork keeping me up. And then of course, poor Aunt Lily."

"Thank God I don't have to worry about school anymore," the blonde sighed. "Not unless I end up going to college someday, but I don't see that happening."

She gave him a half smile, ever the person to try and keep things in a positive light. "You never know, Sam. Hey, where's your other half?" She was looking around the room, seeking out the brunette boy she was introduced to at Thanksgiving.

"He's at home. He has school and there really isn't any reason for him to be here. I don't feel like all the questions anyway. Everybody would be asking who he is, why he's here, blah blah," Sam replied. "Besides, I don't want him to have to be around... this..." he nodded his head toward the coffin, then motioned around the room with his hand.

"Good points.  _I_  don't even wanna be here. I have stuff to get done, and really, funerals are so... morbid." Sam looked at her quizzically, not understanding why she seemed almost annoyed by the entire ordeal. She noticed his look and quickly went on to explain herself. "Think about it, Sam. Do you think she really wants everyone mulling around all depressed and crying over her? No. You know how she –was: all fun loving and silly. She would have wanted us to throw a big party in her honor, having fun and sharing memories and stories about her. Not this..." She spread her arms wide, referring to the entire room.

Sam looked thoughtful. "I guess you have a point. She wasn't into sad stuff. Even with the cancer she made jokes and tried to keep her spirits up," he agreed. For the first time since he arrived, he smiled.

"What do you say we liven this thing up a little?" Michelle asked, the look on her face full of mischief. Sam smiled back, understanding exactly what she meant.

"So which song, then?" The blonde inquired. Michelle thought a moment, scratching her head.

"I got my iPod in my purse. I'll hook it up to the loudspeaker, and the mic is already set up. Just follow my lead, alright?"

"I remember doing stuff like this as kids. We're gonna bring down the house. Just don't sing anything... inappropriate," Sam cautioned, smiling at the memories of him and Michelle breaking into song at family gatherings.

She grinned innocently. "Oh yes, we crashed funerals all the time," she joked, rolling her eyes. "Have faith, cuz. Come on, let's get the party started."

Sam prayed that his aunt was listening, and knowing that what they were about to do was out of respect for who she was.

The congregation was settling into their seats, the funeral itself starting shortly. Mrs. Evans already was sitting in a pew, Stacy and Stevie beside her, chattering quietly between themselves. "Where's Sam?" she whispered to her husband as he sat down next to her.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since we got here. I'm sure he's just in the bathroom or something. He knows this is important, he won't disappear," her husband assured her. She still felt uneasy, feeling like something was a little off. Finally, easing her nerves, she saw her son slide into the row, sitting on the pew right next to her husband. Before she could ask where he had been, the priest called the funeral to order.

The typical funeral material took close to a half hour as the priest led prayers, told anecdotes he had been given, and a couple of Aunt Lily's closest family members gave small speeches about her.

Finally, the priest stepped back to the center, where the podium and microphone were at. "Is there anyone else in the audience who would care to speak at this time?" he asked. It was customary in most cases for people to politely stay silent, not adding more to the already lengthy service, however this time, two figures stood up.

"Sam, what are you doing?" his father hissed, tugging at his son's hand. Sam shook it off, turning to look over at Michelle, who sat in one of the pews across the room.

"Sam and I would like to take a turn, Reverend. We want to celebrate Aunt LillyLily's life with everyone," the confident young woman stated with a slight smile. She stepped out into the aisle, waiting for Sam to join her. Refusing to look toward his parents and siblings for fear of chickening out, Sam joined his cousin and the pair of them walked up to the podium.

Sam spoke first, taking his place behind the podium as the priest stepped aside. Michelle stood next to him, a certain anxious air about her. "Aunt LillyLily was well known by all of us to always be in good spirits. She was funny, always making jokes, always looking for ways to have fun. I remember as a kid, she used to love watching Michelle and I singing. She'd even sing along." He was getting a little choked up but doing his best to maintain composure. There was no way he could sing if he was too busy crying.

"We think that Aunt Lily wouldn't want everyone to be depressed about her. She was trying so hard to make people laugh, even when she was fighting cancer. She'd want us all to rejoice about her memory, not be depressed. It's a bit late to throw her a good bye party, but we want to sing one last performance for her, and hope you might want to join in," Michelle announced. The entire family was watching them, curious as to what these two young people had up their sleeves.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans were exchanging nervous glances at one another. "What is he doing? I know he's been upset about all this but he can't do something crazy," the woman said frantically. Her husband put his hand over hers and squeezed.

"It's Sam. Trust him. Michelle's a little crazy, but just have faith in them," he urged, putting his arm around her and pulling her closer to him. "Just watch."

Michelle had finished fumbling with the microphone and her iPod, changing the loudspeakers in a makeshift sound system for their performance. She pushed a button and the room began to fill with the music from  _The Breakfast Club_ , a song that everyone –knew:  _Don't You Forget About Me._

The family and friends of Lillian Evans listened as these two teenagers harmonized together, singing a very appropriate song—a song about remembering someone. It wasn't sad, per se, it was a mellow song, one that was beautiful to hear and brought forth memories of Lillian's earlier years.

Tears fell all around the room, but not the wracked sobs of people in depressive fits. No, they were tears of peace, a room of people coming together to try and let a woman rest who had fought so hard to keep her health, but finally was overcome.

When they finished the song, a few people began to clap, but Michelle held up her hand and slowly shook her head, silencing them. This wasn't about stealing the spotlight and earning applause. This was about rejoicing.

Without fanfare, the next song began immediately, the pair holding hands as they stood side by side, bonded by blood, bonded by their remembrance of their aunt. Another appropriate song choice,  _Into the Great Wide Open_  brought forth ideas of the woman going into the great beyond, making her journey into heaven.

Again when they were finished, Michelle held up her hands for silence as she made a quick interlude. "This last one was one of Aunt Lilly's favorites, one that she was convinced would make ol' Sammy into a star someday."

The familiar intro music to  _Dream On_  began to play, Sam taking lead. When he got to the chorus, Michelle harmonized in, both of them singing together. When they finished, it was all anyone could do to contain themselves. The first reaction was to provide a standing ovation, but Michelle had made it clear there was to be none of that. This wasn't for them, it was for Lilly.

"We love you, Aunt Lilly!" both of them said at the same time. They hugged each other, tears sliding down their cheeks, big smiles on their faces.

-ooo-

Two hours after their sushi experiment, Tina, Blaine, and Rory returned to the apartment, arms full of shopping bags. They set everything on the table in the living room and began taking out the items inside.

"I sure hope Sammy won't be upset I spent more than me own share," Rory said fretfully. "I only put in a little over half of what we spent."

"Don't worry so much. If Sam didn't trust you to be smart about your money, he wouldn't have put you on his account," Blaine assured him, pulling small vials of paint from one of the bags. "Besides, once Sam gets a load of this stuff, he won't find it in him to be mad."

Tina gave Blaine an agreeable look. "He's right. Once Sam sees this, he won't care what you spent." She put the last of the supplies on the table and cleared away the unpacked plastic bags. Left on the table were several medium sized canvases, paint brushes with various sizes and shapes, stamps and sponge tips, and numerous jars and vials of paint.

"So what exactly are we going to do with this stuff?" Rory asked, taking in the sight of the various supplies. "Ye' said we were gonna paint, but none o' us can really paint, can we?" He picked up a couple of the brushes, examining them.

"Well see, that's the best part. It's abstract art. You just make a big mess on the canvas and it's suddenly artwork," Tina replied with a confident smile. "Just think, when we're all done, you'll have decoration for your walls and it'll be unique, because there's nothing like it anywhere else in the world."

"We're gonna need a trash bag, a paper plate, some water, and paper towels," Blaine announced. Rory went to the kitchen and returned a minute later with the requested items. "I think we're gonna need more water than this," Blaine giggled, seeing the small glass Rory was holding. "You still have some of those plastic cups, right?" Rory nodded as Blaine excused himself to the kitchen and returned with a couple of Solo cups of water.

Tina put all of the supplies on the floor while she covered the table with the trash bag then placed all but the canvases back on the tabletop. "Okay, jut squirt some of the paint onto the plate, and then use the brushes and stamps and sponges to swirl around the colors and make patterns or something. Whatever you want."

The Asian girl bent down and picked up one of the canvases and handed it to Rory. He looked at it, puzzled, taking it from the girl and holding it up. "I… I don't know where to start."

Blaine picked up another of the canvases from the floor, set it on the tabletop, and sat down in front of it. Silently, he took hold of some red, blue, and white paint, squirting some of each color onto the paper plate. He took up one of the sponges and dabbed it into the red paint. Rory watched intently as his friend set about swirling the color across the material. Blaine rinsed the sponge out in the water, and then went for blue this time. He wasn't making any particular patterns, just streaks and swirls of color.

"I thought maybe we could do a three piece set," Blaine said, not looking up, but staying focused on his task. "One piece using red, white, and blue. Another piece with orange, white, and green."

"And one piece with all six colors?" Tina finished for him. Blaine grinned and nodded. "So it's like American, Irish, and Irish-American. That's brilliant!" she exclaimed excitedly. "What do you think, Rory?"

The Irishman's face brightened up. "I love it! I bet Sam will love it, too!" With the decision about their project made, they sat down and each took a canvas, working diligently. Tina made the Irish color canvas, while Rory made the one mixing all six colors. They spent the next couple of hours in focused silence as each of them made their imagination come alive.

-ooo-

The funeral reception lasted far too long. Sam and Michelle's performance was greeted mostly by positive reactions, only a pair of distant cousins seeming to be unhappy about it. Through the grapevine, Sam heard that they felt it was classless, disrespectful, and downright shameful of the two teens.

"Well, cuz, I think we did Aunt LillyLily proud, don't you?" Michelle asked, covering Sam's hand with her own as they sat on the steps outside of the reception hall in the twilight.

"I think so, too," he replied. He smiled and looked up at the sky, as if searching for something. "Yeah, I think we did great. She would have wanted us to celebrate her life."

Michelle leaned her head on Sam's shoulder. "You're an amazing man, Sam Evans. I don't think anyone else would have gotten up there with me."

Sam smiled again, closing his eyes. "Thanks, Michelle. For everything. I was dreading this, but… I'm glad we did this for her."

A few minutes of comfortable silence went by as they listened to the chirping of crickets. "You better call that boyfriend of yours, let him know what's going on."

Sam nodded, standing up and letting go of her hand. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I better before it gets too late." He reached toward his hip and fingered his phone under his jacket.

Michelle winked at him. "I'll let you boys have some privacy. I'll see you tomorrow, cuz," the woman said with a smile. She walked confidently back inside to meet up with her own parents, leaving Sam to himself. He unholstered his phone and slid his finger across the face of it, unlocking it. He grinned at the familiar background picture – he and Rory on their fishing trip earlier in the year. A few more finger slides and he dialed.

"Sammy?" came the accented voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, baby…."

Sam told him all about the funeral, and the last minute decision he and Michelle had made to pay tribute to their aunt. As expected, Rory was proud of him, and gushed with compliments. In return, Rory relayed the sushi lunch to him, complete with his near miss with the wasabi. He neglected to tell Sam about the art project, however.

"Goodnight Sammy. I love ye'. Give me a call tomorrow," Rory closed.

"I love you too. I'll call when you get out of school and before you go to work."

-ooo-

It was finally time for Artie to profess his feelings for Sugar Motta. Rory and Mitchell had helped him plan it all out. He would wait until she was in class, and then sneak to her locker, and leave a note for her. Inside the note, he would instruct her to come to the auditorium before lunch.

Sugar opened her locker, an envelope falling out. She knelt down to pick it up, noticing that it was pink, with her name written neatly across it. She tore open it to find just a slip of paper inside.

_Meet me in the auditorium before lunch. Very important. Artie._

She scratched her head.  _What does Artie want that's so important?_

Trying to figure out the mystery the entirety of her next class, as soon as the bell rang she zipped down to the auditorium. It was dark inside, but no sooner had she stepped inside then the lights on stage illuminated.

"Wow, what's going on?" she said out loud, gazing around the stage as the lights flashed on and off. Artie wheeled in from the side, smiling.

"Artie? What are you doing?" the girl asked, stepping down the aisle, closer to the stage. Before she made it all the way down, she heard music start. It was a song from her childhood, one that she hadn't heard in ages. When she was a kid she had idolized them – a group of five guys, all of them hotter than the next. They were known as The Backstreet Boys, and Artie Abrams was beginning to sing.

As Artie sang  _Quit Playin' Games with my Heart_ , the flashing lights started to turn more colors, reds and pinks and white. Sugar just watched in awe, moving slowly closer and closer to the stage. As soon as the end of the song came, there was a loud popping noise as glitter and confetti exploded from somewhere up in the ceiling, raining down on both Sugar and Artie, the material sparkling in the strobes.

Grinning ear to ear, Sugar crawled up onto the stage and stood before the bespectacled crooner. "Artie, what's this all about?"

Artie smiled and held out his hand. "Sugar, I've liked you for a long time. You caught my eyes last year, but I was too afraid to say anything, especially when I found out you kind of had a thing for Rory," he explained, locking eyes with her.

"Artie…" she cooed, still smiling, taking his hands and standing before him.

"Sugar, I know I'm no Irish guy. I'm just your typical American nerd who loves to sing and with a dream to direct, but Sugar Motta, I really would like to take you out for a date," he went on, his heart pounding like it never had before. Brittany had been very much in control of their relationship, and he never felt like he had to take the initiative: it was all in her court. This time, however, it was all him. Everything came down to him getting the courage to ask her out, and here it was, finally laid out on the table.

"Artie…" she cooed once again. Her eyes were soft, affectionate. "I'd love to go out with you."

Artie's heart exploded in excitement, his lips drawing into a smile so big, his jaw ached. If he could feel his toes, they would have been twitching with giddiness. His eyes glazed over as if he were stuck in dream.

"You name a time and a place, and we'll make it a date," she said, shifting over to sit on his lap. "Wheel me to class?"

"Absolutely!" he answered. "Just hold on down the ramp," he cautioned her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tight as he wheeled them over to the edge of the stage where there was a small wheelchair ramp.

Rory and Mitchell high-fived each other as they watched the entire scene from behind the curtains onstage. "Looks like success!" Rory exclaimed to a smiling Mitchell.

"I'd say so, too. Let's get something to eat, all that light-work was exhausting," the redhead suggested. The two boys watched as Artie and Sugar left the auditorium, then flipped the switches to turn all the lights out, the pair of them leaving through the back stage doors.

-ooo-

_Be home tonight, ready to come home. Love you_

Rory's face lit up when he saw the text message come across his phone in the middle of fourth period. He hadn't expected Sam to return so soon. He quickly fired back a reply.

_I'll see you tonight! Love you so much!_

-ooo-

Rory waited anxiously for Sam to come in through the front door. Finally around nine-thirty he heard the door unlocking.

"Hi honey, I'm home!" Sam said tiredly as he stepped inside, tossing his overnight bag on the floor. Rory leapt up off the couch and threw his arms around his boyfriend.

"Sammy!" he exclaimed. "I missed ye'!" He stepped back and took in the sight of the tired blonde.

"I missed you, too, baby." Sam hugged him and then let go, sighing heavily. "I'm just so tired. Emotionally, and physically." He gently pushed past the younger teen, dragging his bag behind him. "I just want a big swig of juice, a shower, and a nice bed. And you, right next to me."

Rory grinned. "I already 'ave a glass of juice ready for ye'." He followed Sam into the kitchen and pointed to the fridge. "It's in there, staying cold for ye'."

"Thanks, babe," Sam replied with a weary smile. He let Rory take his bag and then opened the fridge fishing out the promised glass of ice cold fruit juice. "Oh god that tastes so good."

After Rory had put Sam's bag in the bedroom, he returned to find Sam taking the last gulp of his drink. "Come on, I 'ave something to show ye'."

"Right now, baby? I'm so tired…" Sam complained quietly. Rory took him by the hand and tugged him to the living room.

"Ye' don't 'ave to do anything, just look at the walls," the teen informed him. He stood Sam in the middle of the room and pointed to the wall above the couch. "Look!"

Sam's jaw dropped. It was beautiful. A trio of paintings on canvas, vibrant streaks and swirls of orange, green, blue, red, and white flowing from one side to the other. It looked like it faded from an Irish theme into an American theme, a mixture of both in the center.

"Oh my God, Rory. They're amazing. Where on Earth did you find these? And how much did they cost?" Sam asked, stepping closer to the paintings. Rory smiled happily.

"Just look at the bottom corners. They 'ave the artists names on them," the teen instructed. Curiously, Sam bent forward and examined the painted signatures on each. Blaine Anderson. Rory Flanagan. Tina Cohen-Chang.

"You did these? You, and Blaine, and Tina? You painted these?" he asked in amazement. Rory nodded, his grin still bright. "They're amazing. Beautiful. I never knew you guys could paint!"

Rory laughed. "We can't. Tina said we just made a mess on the canvas and called it art. She said that's what all the abstract artists do." He stepped up behind Sam, wrapping his arms around the blonde man.

"Well shoot, whatever, you guys did an amazing job. I can't wait to tell them, too," the American exclaimed. As he turned back around to hug Rory back properly, he noticed a fourth canvas on the opposite wall, but it was blank. "What's up with that one? It's blank."

"That one? That's for ye' to paint, Sammy." Sam looked confused. "Ye' 'ave to 'ave a little special touch of ye'r own. It's ye'r turn when ye' get the time. I still 'ave all the supplies."

Sam frowned. "I don't know if I can do something as nice as all thought, though."

Rory poked him on the nose playfully. "All ye' do is make a mess with the paint and see what comes out. It'll look neat no matter what, trust me," the teen assured him.

"You're amazing. All three of you, but you're the most amazing of all," Sam said, dragging Rory by the hand to their bedroom. He began kissing him feverishly, the pair of them falling backward onto the bed, hands roaming all over each other. They began tearing at each other's clothes, hormones going wild.

They made love for almost an hour before passing out into blissful sleep for the rest of the night, both of them happy to be back in one another's arms, ready to face the next day together, as they should be.

 


	37. Episode 37: Plans and Disappointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Okay, so strangely enough, I thought this chapter was a little on the boring side, but according to my beta, it's really more interesting than I give it credit for. Looking back over it, there is some pretty important stuff happening, I think it's just my waning motivation that's kicking in. And no, that is not an indicator of the story ending yet. Just laziness and working on other projects as well. So sorry for the delay kids!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45  
> **

**Recap:**  Sam had to go to his aunt's funeral, and while he was gone, Rory, Blaine, and Tina spent some time bonding, while Sam bonded with his cousin Michelle, putting on a very memorable performance in their aunt's honor and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 37: Plans and Disappointment**

Sam didn't look up from his comic book despite the fact he heard the door to the break room open. He was far too engrossed in discovering the latest development in the X-men universe to worry about who came in. He was finally yanked out of the fantasy world when he heard a loud sigh and something hard hit the table in front of him.

"Huh? Hey! Oh, hi Robert," Sam said, returning to Earth from his fictional existence. "How's it going?"

Robert just grumbled, pulling his head up off of the table, feigning a smile out of politeness. "Stressed. Mind if I sit with you while I freak out?" The man plopped a folder with the station logo on it on the table, his eyes looking toward it as if it were tainted. Sam shrugged, not minding the intrusion. "I think I got myself into something that might be over my head," the intern added.

Sam seemed taken slightly aback. "Well, uh what is it?" He closed his comic and looked at his new friend with concern. He hadn't seen Robert with such a troubled look on his face before.

Robert sighed before saying anything. He opened up the folder, revealing what looked like scribbles of notes and a couple of pamphlets. "I ended up in charge of the charity event next weekend." His statement was matter of fact, with little emotion in it. He didn't offer any other details, either.

"How did  _that_  happen?" Sam asked. "I thought you did the stuff the rest of the marketing team didn't wanna mess with. Typing up press releases or something." He scrunched up his face, trying to remember what exactly it was that Robert had told him he did in the department.

"I begged them for it." Sam looked at the other man like he had three heads. "Don't look at me like that. Yes, I asked for the assignment. They only gave it to me because everyone's busy with some other big promotion, and they've done a charity event every year before so  _someone_  had to do it. This year, it's Empty Bowls."

Sam scratched his head. "What's Empty Bowls? Anything like the Salvation Army? I did that last year at Christmas. Stood on the sidewalk and rang a bell for hours collecting money." He grinned at the memory of Rory standing beside him, ringing another bell as they greeted passersby.

The marketing intern took out a brochure from the folder and pushed it over to the blonde. Sam picked it up and started to look through it. "It's a food collection charity. They collect food and money to buy food for people who don't have any. So, yeah, kind of like the Salvation Army, I guess, but focused only on food."

"Sounds like a really good cause," Sam said, squinting at the pamphlet. The type was entirely too small, the letters running together. "So, what's the problem, then?" he asked, deciding to stop trying to read the miniature typeface.

Robert chuckled and sighed. "I had booked a DJ for the event, but he cancelled. Apparently he had some emergency out of state. Now I have no DJ to host this thing!" He put his hands on his head, leaning his elbows on the table. "If I screw this up, I may as well kiss my chance at any sort of promotion goodbye. That's assuming they even keep me on."

Sam stared up toward the ceiling, trying to think. "There isn't anyone else here who can DJ? I mean, this  _is_  a radio station after all," he inquired.

His colleague shrugged. "Well, yeah, but that's just it. I can't use the DJ scheduled to be on air at the time of the event, of course, and the other two DJ's are all busy with their own stuff. I practically begged one of them but she has something to do with her kids this weekend." He started to rub his temples with his fingertips, a headache forming.

"Why can't  _you_  do it, then?" Sam asked, feeling slightly dumb at such an obvious suggestion. "You've been here longer than I have, and you're in marketing. You gotta have some sort of experience, right?"

"I dunno. I don't exactly have the personality for it. I mean, I'm not good at that sort of thing. Just because I work at a station doesn't mean I can DJ." Robert cursed under his breath, moving his hands away from the folder and laying his forehead against the tabletop once more. Sam looked at him with a bewildered look. Robert kept his head on the table, but went on to explain. He could feel Sam's eyes on him. "I'll level with you. I did a DJ thing back when I was nineteen. I sucked, and everyone made sure I knew it, too. I never wanna do it again."

The blonde's eyes softened, feeling nothing but sympathy for his friend. He knew what it was like to fail at something. A thought suddenly occurred to Sam, and it was a long shot, but it was all he had left to offer for ideas. "You know, when I was in high school glee club, we had to do events and stuff sometimes. My friends are still part of it. Well, kind of. I mean, the club broke up, but they could still be the entertainment maybe."

The marketer raised his head and gazed at Sam with bright eyes. "That's actually… a really good idea. You really think they'd do it? For free? On a Saturday night?  _This_  Saturday night?"

Sam grinned. "Of course! It's the kind of thing we love to do."

"I'll need to meet with them of course. But you said they broke up, so…." Robert trailed off, hoping Sam would offer some solution to meeting up with this heard of teenagers.

"How about you come over for dinner tomorrow night? I'll get together a few of the members, and you bring whatever they need to know to DJ and even prepare a number or two. It'll be fun!" the blonde exclaimed. "What do ya think?"

Robert sat up all the way, finally looking happy and relieved. "That sounds great, Sam. Really great. You sure you don't wanna be in marketing?" he joked.

Sam held his hands up in front of himself. "Ohhh no, marketing is  _not_  for me. But I sure don't mind helping a friend." He smiled at his co-worker, the tension in the room broken, and Robert's mind just a little more at ease. "Come over about seven tomorrow night. I'll text you the address so you can MapQuest it."

"That sounds so awesome, Sam. I really appreciate it. If we get this thing turning out good, I owe you  _big_  time." Robert stood up, gathering his brochures and folder, and turned to leave the break room. "It'll be nice to meet your boyfriend, too. See ya later." He hurried out in a sudden whirlwind of excitement.

Sam waved to him and then realized he needed to tell Rory about the dinner. He didn't get off until eight thirty though. Maybe he could ask to leave early. He pulled out his phone.

_Can you see if you can leave at six tomorrow? I'll explain later. Love you_

It was midday, so he didn't expect a fast reply. Rory would be in class, or on his way to lunch. Just as Sam opened his comic again, he got a response.

_I'll ask. I hope this is important. I feel really bad asking to leave. Love you too_

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to remember that tone of voice didn't come through text messages, and that perhaps Rory didn't mean the message to come across the way it did. He fired off a simple thank you and then went back to reading his comic for the rest of his lunch break.

-ooo-

As soon as Sam and Rory got in the truck to go home, Rory started quizzing him on why it was necessary for him to ask off of work for the next day. "I hope this is important, Sam. I'm lucky Ginny doesn't mind working by herself for a few hours."

 _Okay, so maybe he_ did _mean it the way it came across. Jeez, lighten up, Ror._  "Well yeah. I mean, you don't think I would ask you to take off if it wasn't important, do you?" To his dismay, Rory just shrugged. Sam returned the gesture with a sigh. "It's for work."

"Okay, what is it?" the Irish teen inquired, lightening his tone and yawning.

"I've got a friend in the marketing department, Robert—the guy I told you about, and he has this charity event he needs help with. I thought maybe the glee club could help him out, so I asked him to come over and meet with a couple of you guys and see if something could be worked out," Sam explained cheerily, trying to make it sound like something appealing to the boy.

"And this meeting takes place tomorrow?" Rory asked flatly.

"Uh yeah. I asked him to come over for dinner, and maybe Blaine could come over and you guys could talk to him," Sam said, his voice dropping a little.  _He doesn't sound thrilled. Lighten up already!_

Rory scoffed. "So ye' want me to get off work early so I can come and cook dinner for someone I ne'er met, and then help him with his project?"

"Well, I… yeah, I guess so," the blonde replied nervously.

"Gee, thanks. I 'ave an exam paper to write that's due Friday, ye' know, and I need all the time I can get to work on it. Now I 'ave one less night to work on it," the younger teen hissed. "Ye' could 'ave asked me before ye' told him to come over."

Sam's face dropped. He felt like he had been slapped. "Sorry, I just saw a friend in need and thought it'd be nice if we could help him out." He sounded like a little boy who was being fussed at by his mother.

"Fine. But don't expect some five star meal. We're low on money this week and I can't devote all night to a big dinner," Rory replied with an irritated sigh, turning his head to stare out of the window.

"Oh just forget it! Sorry I asked! I'll do it myself and just ask Blaine to come over! You can go to work and don't worry about it!" Sam shouted angrily. "I mean jeez, calm down already, you act like I'm asking for your first born!"

Rory didn't like being yelled at. Not even his parents yelled at him. They were firm, but they didn't yell. "Don't ye' raise ye'r voice with me, Sam! I 'ave me own shit to worry about, I can't be worrying about ye'r work problems, too!"

"Just forget it I said!" Sam shouted back, blinking back the tiny bit of water forming at the edge of his eyes.  _Goddammit, calm the fuck down, Rory!_

The rest of the ride home was tense and silent. Rory sat with his arms folded over his chest and staring out of the window, while Sam just drove, refusing to look in the teen's direction. When they got to the apartment complex, Sam got out, slamming the door, and walked toward the stairs. Normally he would carry Rory's bag for him, but he just wanted to get away for the moment.

Rory sighed as he trudged up the stairs.  _Maybe I'm being unreasonable. It's just dinner. But he should 'ave_ _asked first. It's me home, too. He didn't even think about the fact that I 'ave me own stuff I 'ave to do, too._

The elder teen kicked off his shoes in the hall and stomped into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch. He threw his feet up on the cushions, leaning up against the armrest as he took the remote from it and turned on the TV, flipping channels. He purposely took up the entire couch so Rory had no option to sit next to him.

Rory stomped off to the bedroom, turning on the light switch before sitting down at the desk and digging through his bag, pulling out his notebook and a textbook. He opened both books and stared at the pages, the words blurring together.  _What the hell is wrong with me? Did I really just get that nasty about a damn dinner? He isn't helping, though. Taking up the whole damn couch like some brat. Even Seamus doesn't act like that. Well, probably because Pap would belt him on his arse, but still!_

Sam grumbled, settling on the sports channel and looking at the screen, his eyes focused on the players, but his mind elsewhere.  _What the fuck is his problem, anyway? Okay, so I should have asked him first, but sheesh, it's nothing to get so bent out of shape about._ The longer he sat there, the more irritated he got.  _I hate this shit. It's stupid. What's his goddamned problem!?_

The Irishman couldn't concentrate. Not on his homework, anyway. All he could think about was their argument and how he had such a nasty attitude about it all. It was childish. Just because he had a long day at school, complete with a big assignment given, it was no reason to take it out on Sam. He sighed, turning his head to peer into the living room. Sam was still sitting on the couch, his lips pressed together in an angry frown.

 _I better go talk to him. I don't want to go to bed angry_ _,_  Rory thought to himself.  _He's still an arse for not asking me first, but I'd rather make peace than make him admit he's being a jerk._ He stood up and walked into the living room, Sam refusing to look in his direction. Cautiously, he approached the couch and sat down on the very edge of the armrest in front of his boyfriend, blocking his view of the TV and forcing him to look at him.

"You wanna move? I'm trying to watch the TV," Sam said, irritated.  _What's he doing now? Just go away, I don't want to talk to you right now._

Rory took a deep breath before speaking. "Sam, I'm sorry I got so upset. I shouldn't 'ave been so mean to ye'." He tried to maintain eye contact, but he felt ashamed for his childish reaction, and could only manage to look downward. He could feel the heat of Sam's irritation emanating from his body.

"I just… I 'ave a lot going on for the end of the semester. Ye'r not in school anymore, but I need ye' to remember that  _I_   _am_." Still not getting a response from the older teen, and still feeling ashamed of himself, Rory stood back up, ready to walk away when he felt Sam's hand grabbing his, tugging lightly.

"Sit down," Sam ordered softly. His eyes had lost their furious glare and been replaced with softer, gentler shine. "I'm sorry I didn't ask first, okay? I didn't think it was a big deal, but I guess I forgot that you might have homework and stuff to do. I'm not exactly used to being at work all day and you being in school and having other responsibilities."

Rory sat back down, Sam sitting up and making room for him. "I'll ask next time, okay? I was just excited to help a friend." He bit his bottom lip as he searched Rory's face for a reaction.

"I had a stressful day, and I guess when ye' dropped that on me, I overreacted. I'm sorry I took it out on ye'. There was just so much work, and I know I did bad on me chemistry exam, and it was just a crappy day," Rory explained. "I don't want ye' to be mad at me, though. Even though ye' kind of should be I guess."

Sam half-smiled. "Wanna put it past us?" he asked hopefully. Rory nodded and leaned in for a hug. Sam kissed him on the mouth instead, then wrapped his arms around him. "I don't like fighting. It's too exhausting." They both laughed, agreeing that indeed, it was too much work to be angry.

"I do need ye' to handle dinner, though. I can use that time to work on me paper, and ye' can cook just as well I can."

"Deal," Sam agreed, smiling. "Wanna watch some TV before bed?" he asked, the tension dissolved.

"I wish. I need to work on me paper. Especially since we 'ave a get-together tomorrow night. I need all the time I can get, ye' know?" the younger teen replied, standing up.

"Okay. Go work on your paper," Sam said, giving him a gentle smile. "I'll make sure it's over by eight thirty. That way you have time to work on your paper, sound good?"

Rory chuckled. "Ye' can make it nine. Can't 'ave our guests thinking we want to run them off," he said, grinning. Sam grinned back and watched as his boyfriend retreated to the bedroom to work on his paper. By the time he was ready for bed, Sam had to pull Rory away from his homework, reminding him of the busy day ahead.

"G'night Sammy. I love ye'." The teen kissed Sam on the mouth, then rolled back over on his side.

"I love you, too. See you in the morning," Sam replied. "Meanie face," he added with a laugh. Rory rolled back over and gave him a playful smack in the side, both of them erupting into a short bout of laughter before calming down to fall asleep.

-ooo-

At Rory's instruction, Sam went to the grocery store as soon as he got off work, a list having been texted to him earlier. At first, the teen had listed out an entire smorgasbord of food, but after a few texts of his own, Sam convinced him it was overkill.

Promptly as six, Sam arrived at Gobbler's Knob, Ginny wishing them good luck on their 'business dinner,' as she called it. Wasting no time, Rory hurried out of the shop, urging Sam to 'put the pedal to the medal'. Sam laughed so hard he could barely focus on the road, almost missing a stop sign.

Once they were home, Rory threw his bag into the bedroom, then hurried to the kitchen. Sam had unpacked the groceries before picking up the Irishman, so Sam was set to work right away.

"What exactly am I making, anyway? I mean, I got what you asked for, but what is it?" Sam asked, wiping the countertop down with a wet washrag.

"Beef tips and noodles, Caesar salad, and toast. I thought we could splurge a little bit, impress ye'r business partner. We aren't quite as broke as I made it sound," the teen said. It was then that Sam noticed Rory had brought a sheet of paper with him – a recipe.

The blonde grinned and chuckled. "It's not a big deal, babe. He's a co-worker; a friend." He took the piece of paper and started to look it over. It was in large print, and Rory had written out the numbers above the numerals to be on the safe side. "Blaine's still bringing  _your_  new friend, right?"

"Yeah. Mitchell. He's kind o' shy. He tried out for the club before it fell apart. He sings really well, but he has so little confidence in himself," Rory answered, turning to head to the bedroom.

"Sounds nice. Can't wait to meet him." Sam scratched Rory's head, mussing his hair. The teen pulled away with a grunt.

"Don't mess with me hair in the kitchen. Ye' know better," he scolded. "…unless ye' want our guests to be flossin' their teeth with me hair." Sam stuck out his bottom lip like a little kid who had just been fussed at, but then giggled at the accidental innuendo of 'flossing with hair', a comment so often alluding to hair getting in someone's mouth during a session of oral pleasure. "I'm going to set to work. They should be here soon."

Sam nodded and strolled over to the fridge to remove some of the items for the recipe. Rory could hear the sounds of pans and pots on the stove, and the occasion swear from his boyfriend as he worked on his 'masterpiece.' Waiting for the beef to brown, Sam went to work setting the table. Seeing as how their dinnerware only included place settings for four, he decided to take the paper plate and plastic ware, giving the guests and his boyfriend the best settings.

No sooner had the table been set, than the doorbell rang. Rory took that as a signal to put away his homework and scurry to the kitchen and assist Sam by monitoring the noodles on the burner while Sam answered the door. He thought it made more sense for Sam to greet his co-worker first, and Blaine and Mitchell weren't due for another several minutes according to their text message, so there was no doubt who it must be. He could hear a voice he didn't recognize – Sam's co-worker.

"And this is Rory, our internationally esteemed chef who can out cook Gordon Ramsay any day of the week," Sam announced, escorting his friend into the kitchen archway.

"I'm just boiling noodles, Sammy. Ye' did all the real work," the teen replied, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Robert," the man said. His voice was friendly, and he was dressed in casual clothes, not at all what Rory imagined. He had expected someone older, more professional looking with a stern look on his face. Instead he was greeted by a handsome man who looked to be around Sam's age, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt.

"Nice to meet ye' too," Rory replied, wiping his sweaty hand on a nearby towel, then holding it out. Robert shook his hand, smiled, and politely asked if Rory needed any assistance. "Oh no, thank ye'. Noodles are all that's left. Just go 'ave a look around, it should be ready soon."

Sam led Robert out of the kitchen and into the living room, pointing out the paintings on the wall. "I came back from the funeral and found my friends had painted these. You'll get to meet one of them tonight." He noticed Robert looking at the blank canvas with a questioning gaze. "I'm supposed to paint that one. I just haven't done it yet."

"I have to say, your friends are quite the abstractionists."

"That must be them now," Sam said, the doorbell ringing again. He left Robert in the living room, scurrying toward the door. He opened it to find Blaine and a skittish looking red haired boy standing next to him.

"Hey guys, come on in," Sam greeted. "I'm guessing you're Mitchell," he added, shaking the boy's hand as he stepped over the threshold. "I'm Sam, Rory's other half."

Mitchell smiled and then bent down to untie his shoes. "Uh you don't have to take off your shoes, dude. Just come on in and get comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon," Sam offered. Mitchell blushed slightly, feeling foolish. He had always been taught it was polite to remove his shoes when entering someone's home and already he was looking too uptight.

Blaine followed Sam to the living room for more introductions, but Mitchell stopped at the kitchen to greet his friend. "Hi, Rory. Do you need any help?" he offered. Rory was busy emptying the pot of noodles, carefully tilting it just enough to let the water out. They didn't yet have a colander, so he had to rely on pure skill to drain the hot liquid from the pot.

"Nah, I've got it. Go ahead to the other room; we'll eat in a minute. Almost ready," Rory replied. Mitchell nodded and turned to walk away, but Rory spoke again. "I'm glad you came. It's about time ye' got to meet me Sammy and see the apartment."

"Thanks for letting me come over," the red headed boy replied. He smiled sweetly and retreated to the living room, where Sam introduced him to Robert, and pointed out the paintings on the wall. Blaine grinned with pride as Sam showed off his, Rory, and Tina's hard work.

The foursome made idle chatter for a few minutes until Rory called for Sam from the kitchen. Sam hurried away at the summons, returning momentarily to seat their guests. Sam assisted Rory in bringing out the salads and plates of food, the smell of beef and Caesar dressing filling the noses of their guests. Sam quickly took drink requests and returned with glasses of soda and water, urging his boyfriend to sit down and enjoy his meal.

"So what exactly is it that we're meeting about?" Blaine asked curiously. He unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap carefully. He was always so paranoid about getting food on his clothes. Sam had once joked that he was surprised Blaine didn't remove his bowtie while he ate, just in case something dripped down his chin and made it as far as his neck.

"The radio station I- uh we, Sam and I, work for, WJJC is hosting a charity event for the Christmas holidays, and I'm in charge of it," Robert answered, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I had a DJ, but he backed out, and my options are limited on short notice. Sam thought maybe you guys could be of some help." His eyes went around the table, searching for favorable reactions.

Everyone was quietly eating, no one quite sure what to say next. "You want us to help DJ? Or perform?" Blaine asked, ending the awkward silence.

"Whatever you guys can offer. I'm open for anything," Robert replied with a nervous smile. He hadn't exactly prepared a presentation, but he did bring along his folder that he had shared with Sam earlier.

"Tell them about the charity," Sam suggested, sympathizing with how unnerving it would be to go into a roomful of teenagers and ask for their help.

"Oh, right. It's called Empty Bowls. It's an organization that collects food and money to buy food for people who don't have any. It's similar to the Salvation Army, except just food," Robert explained. Fortunately, all three of the teenagers at the table stopped eating and were focused on his explanation. "I have a place booked – the bowling alley. We just lack the entertainment."

Again, there was silence, but this time it was the silence of deep thought as everyone lost themselves, searching for an idea of how to raise interest in this event.

"Um… I have an idea…" Mitchell said quietly. All eyes turned to him, waiting to hear what he had to say. "Why doesn't the glee club DJ  _and_  perform?" Everyone looked at him with delighted expressions.

"That's a great idea!" Rory exclaimed. "We can call it… Hmm… Empty Bowls! Bowling! Bowling for bowls, filling bowls by bowling!" He threw his hands up in excitement, his toast flying to the floor.

"Exactly!" Mitchell replied, his voice louder and more confident than before. "Bowling to Fill Empty Bowls. That can be the name of the event," he added.

"Bowling to Fill Empty Bowls… Hmm…" Robert but his finger on his chin, cocking back his head and staring at the ceiling while he thought. "Yes, I think I like that. Why didn't I come up with that? It sounds so much better than what I came up with- Bowling for Food."

"I like to go bowling," Mitchell said, quiet again. "There isn't much to do around here, so I bet you'd get a lot of teens to show up."

Rory clapped him on the back. "Great idea, Mitchell. And we didn't even 'ave to get halfway through dinner." He leaned over to pick his toast up off the floor, leaving crumbs on the carpet. He said something in Irish – most likely a swear—and sat back straight.

"You'll have to be ready right away though. I know it's super short notice but it's uh.. this Saturday," Robert declared.

"We've done amazing things in shorter rehearsal times. If we do this though, require that anyone who comes in either bring a bag of food, or make a donation. That way the charity gets something either way," Sam suggested. He turned his attention to his boyfriend. "This is really good, babe. Brain food apparently."

The Irish teen grinned at the compliment. "So ye' 'ave the glee club for a DJ but I assume there has to be more to it than just announcing the sponsor and playing music, right?"

Robert nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. "Yes, much more than that. Nobody cares who the sponsor is, what they care about is what that sponsor is actually  _doing_  at the event. They want fun."

"I'm pretty sure we can keep it lively. Between singing and dancing, we can try and get the audience involved. Dance with them, get them to do some karaoke. We'll make it a blast," Blaine assured the marketer.

Robert was all smiles. He hardly had to say much else as his new friends tossed ideas back and forth, asking the occasional question about what the station would allow, and what the club would need to prepare. He had never seen a brainstorming session become so animated and happy. Most of the sessions at the station were filled with arguments, frustration, and irritation.

After dinner and their brainstorming session, Sam suggested they wind down with some video games – friendly competition on  _Mario Kart_.

"Uh, guys, I need to work on me paper for a bit. I'll be in me room, but don't leave because o' that," Rory announced as they were splitting up for teams.

"Are you sure? It  _is_  starting to get late," Robert mentioned. "You guys have school and Sam and I have work."

"Just a few rounds," Sam whined playfully. "Come on, just a half hour!" He had already secured the Wiimote on his wrist with the strap and was trying to shove another one at Robert. He took one while Sam kneeled down to pick up another. "Come on, Mitch, back me up, be on my team," he urged.

Mitchell grinned, taking the offered controller. "Sure thing. I never played before though," he replied shyly. He wrapped the strap around his wrist and fumbled with the controller. Sam took his hands and gave him a swift run down on what the buttons did while Blaine and Robert readied their own controllers.

Rory gave them a smile and then trotted off to his bedroom, sitting down at the desk. The last thing he really felt like doing was writing a paper. He really wanted to just go to bed, worn out from the busy day. He sat at the computer, staring at the screen. He sighed, forcing himself to concentrate.

When his friends came to say good night about forty-five minutes later, he had fallen asleep, his head resting on his arms. Sam gently shook him awake after they'd all left, not wanting to attempt picking him up out of the chair.

"Wake up sleepy head. You just gotta make it from the desk to the bed," Sam cooed playfully as Rory was wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.

"Did e'eryone leave already?" the Irish teen asked in a slight daze.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. A few minutes ago. Nobody had the heart to wake you up. I think our 'business dinner' was a success." He pried Rory out of the chair and pushed him along to the bathroom to brush his teeth. That chore done, Sam led him back to the bedroom, helped him shuck off his shirt, drop his jeans and boxers, and crawl into the bed, wrapping up in the warm sheets.

"Thank you, babe," the elder teen said as he crawled into bed himself, just as nude. He scooted himself behind his boyfriend, spooning him and draping his arm over his side. Rory just mumbled something that sounded like 'You're welcome' but he was already drifting back to sleep. Sam wasn't too far behind him, ending up in a dream world of his own.

-ooo-

The next day at lunch, Blaine shared the news with the other glee club members about their new performance event. "We may not officially be a club anymore, but we can still perform, right?"

"Definitely. It sounds really fun. Like a rock'n'bowl sort of thing," Tina remarked, her eyes widening in excitement. "Maybe if kids from the school come, it might garner some more interest in the club."

"It won't do any good if Figgins won't let us meet, though. Mr. Schue said he was pretty adamant about the club breaking up. I doubt he'll let us try again mid-year," Artie replied sadly.

Sugar put her hand on Artie's, only their fingertips touching because of his gloved hands. "Oh Artie, don't think like that. I bet we can convince the principal to let us meet if we had enough people."

"Sugar's right. If we  _do_  happen to find enough people, they almost have to let us regroup, especially when Rory wins this contest. How can he say no if we have a free ride to nationals?" Tina added. "And Rory  _will_  win this thing, right Rory?"

Rory turned fifty shades of red, suddenly feeling very nervous. "I… I'm gonna give it me best, but I might be up against some pretty tough competitors."

"That's why you just have to practice night and day," Artie said. "Just because we can't meet doesn't mean we can't support you."

The Irishman smiled. "Thanks. I just hope I don't let ye' all down." He stared down at his lunch, his appetite leaving him.  _What if I_ don't _win? Everyone's going to be so upset. Disappointed. Let down. They'll never trust me to do anything again. How did I get myself into this mess?_

Blaine put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You okay? You look a little sick," he said, noticing his sudden daze and the paleness of his skin. "Nerves getting to you?"

Rory nodded his head. "Yeah. Just real nervous. I don't want to fail. I want e'erything to turn out okay."

"If you win or not, as long as you give it your best, that's what matters," Mitchell piped up. "Or at least that's what everyone else says."

"Mitch is right. As long as you give it your best, nobody can be disappointed in you. Besides, Sam will be proud of you no matter what," Tina agreed. "Have you picked a song for the audition yet?"

The nervous teen shook his head. "No… I guess I need to work on that." He would have blushed in embarrassment, but he had already gone from deep red to pale, and his cheeks didn't have much color left in them.

"We'll help you. You know, between the holidays, and break, and this charity event," Artie said. "I guess that didn't sound as promising as it should have."

"It's okay, baby. We get the point. Time's short, hurry up," Sugar announced with a smile. "If you need any music, just let me know and I can buy it for you. Special effects, too."

"Thanks, Sugar, but I think low-key is the best. I want them to focus on me, not the shiny lights," Rory replied. Sugar just shrugged her shoulders, yet another offer of money to solve a problem rebuffed.  _Maybe someday she'll figure out that money can't fix everything,_  he thought to himself.

The group exchanged more chit chat about the audition, song ideas for the performance as well as for the charity event, and even listened to Sugar go on about the various things her dad could buy to enhance the show at the bowling alley. For once, her offer was graciously accepted. She even offered to pay for free bowling for anyone who came if it would help the cause.  _I can't wait to tell Sam so he can call Robert. This thing is gonna be so much better than he expected!_  Rory thought.

Blaine couldn't help but notice that when Rory stood up to take his tray to the garbage, when he turned around, his butt looked just as firm and round as Kurt's.  _Why am I thinking about him like this again? What is wrong with me? It's_ Rory _. I love Kurt. I want Kurt. Damn, not long until I see him. I need him. Then all these weird thoughts will go away and I can think about just Kurt, like it should be. Doesn't help what I saw that night. Fuck, why didn't I just walk away_ _? It's all I can do not to picture them both going at it every time I see them. I hate this. I just can't let it get to me. No. No no no. Wow, his ass looks- stop it, Blaine! Stop, stop, stop! This isn't right._ Blaine's inner monologue was interrupted, however, when the bell rang, and lunch was over. Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice that he was having an argument in his head.

-ooo-

Normally, Blaine was very attentive in class, but after his mental chastising at lunch, he found it difficult to focus. Conflicting images kept popping in his head. Rory naked. Sam naked. Kurt naked. The scene he witnessed of his two friends having sex. The same scene, except he was in Sam's place, Rory atop him. Then it was Kurt on top. Then he was standing up, both Rory and Kurt on their knees in front of him, servicing him orally. The scenes were all running together until he could barely tell who was doing what to who, and with who. When the images flashed so fast that all he saw was an amalgamation of his best friend and his boyfriend, his eyes snapped open and he shifted upright in his seat. He had dozed off for just a few seconds, but those few seconds were enough.

Blaine raised his hand and asked for permission to go to the restroom. As soon as he entered the men's room, he rushed over to the sink, staring into the mirror.

_What is wrong with me? This isn't natural. I shouldn't be looking at Rory this way. He's my friend. I never used to look at him like this. Why now?_

He turned on the water and reached over to take a handful of paper towels. He soaked them and pressed the wet pad against his forehead, then over his eyes, as if he were trying to wake himself up. Wake up from a mental nightmare.

_Maybe I spend too much time with him. That has to be it. Ever since Kurt left, I've been hanging with Rory and Sam all the time. Mostly Rory, though. That has to be it. I'm just missing Kurt so much I'm starting to see him in Rory. Gotta be it. Gotta be. Come on, Blaine, snap out of this! It's ridiculous!_

Blaine wanted to cry, just to get the emotions out of his system, but he would have to return to class, his eyes red, his face flushed and splotchy and everyone would know something was wrong, and then questions would arise. One of the downsides of a fair complexion was that when he was embarrassed or upset, his skin told on him several minutes longer than those with a nice tan. He would just have to hold it in for now.

_I need to see him less. I can't help it though. He needs a ride, and I see him at lunch, and throughout the day. I just... I just have to keep it under control. I-_

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibration on his hip. Hoping to hear from Kurt, he quickly un-holstered his phone, checking for a text. It wasn't Kurt, however. It was Rory.

_Do you mind taking me to the mall this Saturday to do some shopping? I need to get something for Sam. Thanks!_

Blaine sighed.  _Of course. I'm standing here thinking about how I need to be around him less and then this. I can't say no. Sam can't take him. Damnit_ _.He's depending on me to help him out. I_ want _to, I just… I'm so worried I can't get my head back on track._

Frustrated, Blaine shot off a quick reply, praying to himself that it wasn't a mistake.

_Sure. Gotta keep it short though, Kurt's supposed to get in at 3_

Seconds later, Rory replied with his gratitude. Blaine had already left the bathroom, just as frustrated as when he came in, but at last he had gotten some privacy to think for a few minutes. Once Kurt arrived for the holiday break, everything would be better. It had to be. Loneliness was the source of his stress, of his strange feelings. Seeing Kurt again would make it all go away and everything would be back to normal.

-ooo-

"Have you picked your audition song yet?" Sam asked, placing the frozen pizza they were going to be eating for dinner into the oven. Rory was busy on the couch, absorbed in a recorded NASCAR race.

"No," the young teen called back as Sam strolled in, standing next to his boyfriend and mussing his hair. "Well, yes. I think. I dunno."

Sam screwed up his face. "What's that supposed to mean? You either do or you don't. Either way, you really should be practicing as much as possible."

Rory jerked his head to the side, away from Sam's fingers. "I can manage, Sammy. Don't worry about it so much," he said, irritated. "I'm a big boy."

"Hey, don't get upset. I just want you to be ready, that's all. You got a lot on your shoulders with this competition," Sam replied, bending down to kiss the top of the boy's head.

"I know," the teen snapped. "Sorry, it's not ye', it's just all this pressure. E'eryone is counting on me, and if I mess it up, it's the end of the club for sure. Not to mention we 'ave this performance this weekend at the charity event."

The older teen smiled and put his hands on Rory's shoulders, squeezing. "Well then, how about I quit bugging you about it, and instead you just spend the rest of the evening on the couch, watching NASCAR, and I'll bring you pizza and Coke, and give you a nice massage. That sound better?" Rory nodded, turning his head to smile at his boyfriend. Sam leaned down to give him a peck on the forehead and then slid in next to him on the couch until he needed to finish up with the pizza.

"I'd suggest you take a nice, hot bath but I would probably wanna crawl in there with you and odds are, you wouldn't get much relaxing done," Sam said with a playful grin. Rory gave him a sigh, his hormones very much wanting to take him up on the offer, but his mind and body needing a rest. "Maybe next time, though. When you can enjoy it."

"Thanks, Sammy. Maybe once break starts and there's no more exams, I'll be ready to ravage ye'. Only one more exam, ye' know."

"God, I do  _not_  miss exams one bit. They always made my head hurt. I never did all that great on tests anyway. Mostly B's and C's. But hey, it's passing, and you're getting A's, so at least you can get into a good college and a high paying job and take care of me when I'm old and gray." Sam wiggled his hands like a trembling old person. "You got me taken care of, right you little whippersnapper?"

Rory scoffed playfully. "Wait, ye'r the older one! Ye'r supposed to be taking care o' me!" Sam slid his hands down and tickled him, the boy giggling. Tickling didn't turn Rory on the way it did Sam, instead it was just a bunch of playful giggling. "Even if I  _am_  the more responsible one." His chiding resulted in yet more tickling from the older boy.

"Holy shit!" Rory exclaimed all of a sudden as the TV made a loud crash, followed by an equally loud boom. Both boys, startled, turned their attention to the screen, an explosion of flame filling the screen.

"Rewind that!" Sam ordered, already reaching over to grab the remote from Rory's lap. "Oh shit, he hit the wall, hard!" They stared in horror at the replay, watched it again in slow-motion. The car skidded and flipped several times, finally slamming into the wall headfirst, before exploding violently. By the time the action returned to "real time" the car was surrounded by pit crew with large fire extinguishers and an ambulance had parked right on the track next to the destroyed vehicle.

"Do you think he...?" Rory trailed off. They both breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the announcer came back on the air, declaring the driver alive, albeit injured. The roll cage kept the top of the car from crushing, and the explosion actually came from the bottom front of the vehicle and looked much worse than it was. The car was totaled, and the driver severely injured, but according to the announcer, he would be okay.

"I sure am glad we didn't choose to be race car drivers. Way too dangerous," Sam commented.

"I agree," Rory said. He then heard his phone beep. He fished the phone from his pocket and looked at it – a text from Blaine.

_Kurt isn't coming home for Christmas. His family's going to NY._

"Oh no," Rory said quietly. He showed Sam the text message, both of them exchanging looks of empathy as they realized just how crushed Blaine must feel.

-ooo-

Emma Pillsbury looked up from her desk when she heard the faint rapping of someone at her door. Smiling, she saw that it was Rory Flanagan. "Hi, Rory! Come on in," she said, standing up to greet him. "What can I do for you? Is everything alright?" she asked cheerily. He didn't look upset or disturbed, but if there wasn't anything wrong, students didn't often come see her.

"Hi, Miss Pillsbury. Do ye' 'ave a few minutes to help me with something?" the teen asked politely.

"Of course I do. Sit down," she replied. Before she sat back down, she walked over to the door to shut it- she was very big on privacy for her students. She returned to her chair and looked at him with her big doe eyes, a comforting smile on her lips. "What can I help you with?"

Rory blushed slightly before he even asked his question. "I, uhm, I was wondering if ye' could help me with me checkbook," he said quietly.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked, not expecting this kind of question. She was used to emotional and social issues, but this was new territory for her.

The teen reached into his bag and pulled out a check book, numerous receipts and things stuffed inside of it. He sat it down in front of her and looked down. "It's out of sorts."

Emma reached forward and picked up the book, flipping it open. Several receipts fell out on the desk. "Oh. Oh my, yes. You  _do_  need a little help." She put her finger on her chin and thought a moment. "I don't have a pamphlet for that one. We'll just have to work on it together then."

She pulled out the rest of the receipts and opened the checkbook. The only entry was for the initial deposit. "Are these all of the receipts since you opened the account?"

Rory shook his head. "No. I think there's more, but I don't know where they are." The boy sighed. "Can I fix it?"

Miss Pillsbury smiled. "Of course. I think the easiest thing would be to get your bank statement. Then go through and see if everything you have receipts for has been taken out. Then try to remember if there's anything you don't have a receipt for that hasn't come out yet."

"What if I don't remember though?"

"Leave some extra money in there for a while, just so if something does come out, you won't get messed up. Once you're really sure how much you have, then write in this register what it is, and mark it as an adjustment. From then on, just make sure you mark everything down when you buy it," she said. She pointed to the register and focused on the next line down. "See, this is where you need to write your adjustment."

"Okay. So then when I get a receipt, I just write it on the next line, right?"

"Yes. And then make sure you go over here," she moved her finger to the far right of the booklet. "and add or subtract the amount so you know how much you have left." She gazed at the teen, looking for a sign of understanding.

Rory chewed on his bottom lip as he was lost in thought. It sounded simple enough, it looked easy on paper, but math wasn't his strongest subject (but nowhere near his worst, either) so he still felt a little unsure.

Emma picked up on his apprehension. "How about the next time you buy something, save the receipt and come see me after the holidays are over. I'll help you put it in the register. When you get your bank statement in the mail, bring it in, and we'll sit down and figure it out. Would that work?"

The teen's eyes lit up brightly. "That would be great, Miss Pillsbury! Thank ye' so much! I was so afraid Sam would find out I hadn't kept up with it and then be mad at me." He let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, so this is his account, too? Make sure you tell him how important it is he gives you his receipts right away. It'll make it harder on you if he forgets about money he spent," the counselor instructed.

"Yes, ma'am," Rory replied. "Thank ye' so much. I'll see if I can find a copy of me statement on the internet bank."

"Good. Let me know when you're ready to work on it. I'll be here," she said, smiling. He thanked her one more time and got up, hurrying off to class.

Emma took a freshly sharpened pencil and opened the small drawer on her desk, taking out a note pad. Neatly written on the top page were the words 'Pamphlet Ideas." She wrote down underneath the last one, "How to balance a checkbook" and then slid the notepad back into her desk, and placed the pencil back in the canister of writing instruments.

-ooo-

"So… is everything ready for tonight's big event?" Sam inquired, turning over the hash browns in the pan on the stove.

"I think so. We didn't really do much to prepare, but then again, 'ave we e'er?" his brunette boyfriend replied, strolling into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower, only a pair of boxers on. Sam turned around from the stove and took in the sight of him.

"Good point. I can't count the times the glee club has just burst out with a random song and dance. Maybe the pressure of the last minute performance is what brings out our talent the most," Sam suggested, sliding the pan off of the hot burner without looking at it.

Rory walked over to the cabinet and took out a pair of glasses, inspecting them. "Ye' really 'ave to do a better job washing dishes, Sammy," he chuckled. He turned to the sink and picked up the wet rag, wiping off the glass. "We won't disappoint ye', or Robert."

"I know. I'm just nervous I guess. It's weird not being part of the club anymore, and this will be the first time I see you guys performing without me," the blonde lamented. Rory came up behind him and placed his hands on Sam's sides.

"Don't worry. Let's just eat breakfast," the boy said. "Orange juice, or fruit punch?" He let go of Sam, took the glasses, and popped open the fridge. "Oh, ne'er mind, I know what ye' want." Setting one glass on the counter, he took out the orange juice and filled the glass, then the other. When he turned around, Sam had finished up the last of the cooking and divided the food up between two plates.

As Rory walked out of the kitchen, glasses in hand, he called to Sam from the table. "By the way, what makes ye' think ye' won't be performing with us?"

-ooo-

A half hour later, Blaine arrived to pick his younger friend up for a shopping trip. Rory forbade Sam to go with them – it was the only chance he had to shop for him before Christmas. Feigning disappointment, Sam let them go, secretly using the time for his own shopping.

Blaine was strangely quiet as they rode to the mall. Rory thought nothing of it, figuring it was merely sadness over Kurt not coming home.  _Just let me make it through this day without having weird thoughts. Only think about Kurt._

"Wanna grab some lunch first?" Rory asked. Blaine didn't hear him. "Blaine? I asked ye' if ye' wanted to get some lunch first." Blaine still didn't respond.  _Must be stressing o'er Kurt._ "Yoo hoo, Blaine, are ye' okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just disappointed about Kurt," the senior replied, forcing a smile. He looked over at Rory, trying his best to convince him he truly was okay.

Blaine pulled his SUV into a parking space and turned off the vehicle. Rory hopped out, but Blaine hesitated.  _I'm fine. I just gotta focus on thinking about Kurt and this weird feeling is gonna stop._ He got out and followed his friend into the mall, listening to the boy talking excitedly to himself as he debated which store to visit first.

"I 'ave no idea what to get him. I'll try and be fast, though, I promise," the teen declared, not noticing that Blaine was several feet behind him. Blaine followed him into the first store, silently observing, occasionally picking something up to idly look at it, but not saying much.

By the time they reached Macy's, Rory had finally realized just how invisible Blaine seemed to be making himself. He stopped at the cologne counter, picking up one of the bottles and holding it out for his silent friend. "What do ye' think?"

"Rory, I need to tell you something," Blaine said flatly, ignoring the offered bottle. Rory looked at him bewildered. "It's… important."

Rory shrugged. "Okay, what is it?" he asked, his tone light and carefree.

"Remember the night we went to the club, and I stayed over?" the senior began. The younger teen nodded slowly. "I heard you and Sam. You know…"

Rory's face flushed deeper than a ripe tomato. "I… oh me God, I'm so sorry! I was drunk, and…" he paused, looking around to see if anyone was listening. "horny," he whispered. "I lost me better judgment, I'm so sorry!"

Blaine couldn't help but laugh. The way Rory blushed, the way he suddenly began gushing out an excuse, and then afraid to utter the sexual word without searching for witnesses. It seemed so absurd.  _He should be mad, shouldn't he? I mean, I heard them. Well, I didn't say I saw them, too, that might be too much, but…_

"It won't happen again, I swear," Rory went on. "Don't worry, I won't mention it to Sammy, it would just embarrass him, too." As he watched Blaine's nervous face shift into a smile, and then erupt with laughter, he couldn't help but join in. "I guess it does seem kind of funny, now, huh?"

Blaine nodded his head. "Yeah, it's funny, I just needed to get that off my chest. I don't like keeping secrets, and with all this stress about not seeing Kurt, I just am tired of trying not to say anything." When the laughter settled down, his face returned to a forced smile.  _I couldn't tell him. Not everything. It's not important, is it? Nah. And what a lame excuse. Because of stress over Kurt? What's that got to do with seeing them? Now I'm just talking out of my rear to him and to myself._

"Well, this was highly embarrassing, so how about we ne'er mention it again, right?" Rory asked, his face starting to lighten a bit. Blaine nodded again, reaching behind his friend to pick up another bottle and brought it back to his nose and sniffed.

"Here, try this one," Blaine said. "If not for him, then for you."  _I wonder how Kurt would like this one…_


	38. Episode 38: Celebrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: I will warn you all now, this has been probably the hardest chapter for me yet, and it's kind of stupid why. This is the Christmas episode, here we are at the end of June, beginning of July and honestly, who the hell can write anything about Christmas during the summer? I couldn't feel any less Christmassythis time of year, so it has taken me literally almost a month to write this chapter, and generally I can put out a chapter in a week's time or less. That in mind, this episode will not be one of my strongest, but I promise I will be making up for it with the next story arc that begins with chapter 39! It's exciting, so bear with me here through this one. ^_^  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Sam's friend Robert got an assignment to put on a special performance for a charity, and asked the former glee club members for help. In the process, Sam and Rory got into a big argument and they're finally learning that living together isn't as easy as they thought. Blaine confessed to Rory that he heard them having sex but didn't mention he actually saw them and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 38: Celebrations**

By the time Rory and Blaine finished shopping, they needed to get to the airport to pick up Kurt. They would just have to drop Rory off on the way back. The entire way to the airport, Blaine's stomach was a mess of nerves. He had been anxious already, but now that he was counting down the minutes, he felt butterflies in a way that reminded him of how things were back when they first met: how he'd felt whenever he would get to see Kurt on the weekend after not seeing him all week long.

Blaine was tapping his foot nervously as he and Rory stood in the same airport lobby in which Sam had waited for Rory, just as impatiently, months earlier.

"Calm down, me friend, ye'r gonna make ye'self sick from anxiety," Rory cautioned playfully. "Ye' don't want him to squeeze ye' and get covered in vomit."

"That's really gross, Rory," Blaine replied, chuckling. Finally, he heard the familiar voice of Kurt Hummel as the boy came waltzing elegantly up the hall, dressed in an outfit far too elaborate to be for flying.

Before Rory even had a chance to say 'There he is!' Blaine took off at top speed, not stopping until he had grabbed Kurt and lifted him off his feet, their arms wrapped around each other in a tight hug.

Rory waited politely, a smile plastered on his face, letting the boys have their reuniting moment in peace. When they joined him, they were holding hands and grinning, constantly stealing glances at each other and giggling.

"Welcome back, Kurt, good to see ye'," Rory greeted him, throwing his arms around the man in a tight hug. Blaine let go of Kurt's hand long enough to allow him to return the gesture, but latched back on as soon as they let go of each other.

"It's good to see you, too. I'm glad to get off that awful plane. They really need some new upholstery in those things. It reeked and to top it off, there was a crying baby. Ugh! I'm just so glad to be home!" the two younger guys couldn't help but laugh at Kurt's description of his flight.

"It sounds awful. Imagine being in one o' those all the way from Ireland," Rory said, reminding Kurt that he hadn't had it so bad after all. "Come on, I'll help ye' with ye'r suitcase. Blaine's gotta drop me off at home on the way back." Kurt hadn't said anything about their extra companion, but anyone who knew them would be certain the two lovers would be dying for some alone time. He and Sam would get to see Kurt plenty over break.

The three of them walked purposefully toward the bag claim, where Kurt ended up with three large suitcases. "What did ye' pack? The whole apartment?" Rory asked as he grunted, pulling one of the cases off the belt.

"Oh just the essentials. Outfits for every day and occasion, shoes to match, all my facial needs, my laptop..." Kurt went on to list several other things, the two boys exchanging playful banter as Blaine lost himself in thought.

 _Finally. Kurt's here. We can drop Rory off and I can focus one hundred percent on Kurt. No more weird thoughts about Rory, no more checking him out. Just Kurt, exactly how it should be. How I want it to be._ Blaine took hold of Kurt's hand again, each of them dragging a bag behind them, Rory pushing the carry-on in front of himself.

Blaine woke up from his dream, tears already streaming down his face. This was how things should have happened. Kurt should have come home, Blaine should have been there to greet him. Kurt should have been there to make everything okay. Instead, Kurt was still in New York, and Blaine would have to continue to fight his confusing feelings about Rory all on his own. He knew he shouldn't have laid down for a nap, and this only proved it more. As he lay there, the tears forced him to shut his eyes, and he cried himself back to sleep.

-ooo-

Blaine didn't want to take Kurt home just yet – he knew the moment Kurt walked through the door, his father and stepfamily would be all over him, filled with questions, hugs, and attention. Blaine wouldn't get him to himself at all. That evening, they would be with their friends, yet more time they wouldn't be spending together. Instead, they opted to go to Blaine's.

The two boys lay on Blaine's bed, cuddling, kissing, their hands intertwined. Very few words were spoken – everything they wanted to say was right there in their actions. They had spoken via text messages and phone calls all the time, so there wasn't catching up to do. Just the physical. It wasn't sex either boy craved so much as just being in their presence, touching.

"I missed you so much, Kurt. You will never know how much," the senior confessed. He fought to hold back tears at first, but gave up. "I've wanted to hold you for months." He ran his fingers through Kurt's carefully gelled hair – the only person allowed to touch the boy's perfect coif.

"I missed you, too. I thought about you all the time, even if I wasn't so good at keeping touch." Kurt's words sent pangs of guilt through Blaine's heart. There had been times when he felt hurt, even mad, that Kurt didn't seem to put more effort into staying in contact, but now he realized that even though they didn't talk every day, he was still on Kurt's mind. Unlike himself.

Blaine hated himself immensely at that moment.  _He was thinking of nobody but me the entire time. Instead, I was over here, thinking of… thinking of Rory. Kurt, too, but eyeing Rory like… like a piece of meat. Oh my God, I have been. I've been looking at Rory like a sex object. No, no that's not it. I could never think of him like that. He's one of my best friends. I just keep seeing Kurt when I look at him._

Despite his inner monologue, Blaine felt in his heart that the words he was thinking weren't entirely true – that he was lying even to himself.  _No, I have to admit it. I've developed some sort of feelings for him. For Rory. Not the same as Kurt, but still. Fuck. God I hate this._

"Blaine? You okay?" Kurt asked, his boyfriend sobbing in his arms. He stroked the teen's head gently, his other hand rubbing Blaine's back. "What's wrong? Don't cry, okay?"

Blaine sniffled. "I just missed you so much. I'm so happy you're back right now."  _So happy you don't know. With you here, I can get_ him _out of my head. With you here,_ he _doesn't invade my thoughts so much._ Kurt nuzzled his chin on the top of his boyfriend's head, holding him close and comforting him.

"I missed you, too. So so much. I love you so much," Kurt repeated. Every time he said the words, they cut into Blaine like a knife.

 _I love you too. I love you. So why can't I make this stop? Why can't I get him out of my head._  "I love you, too. You're my everything," Blaine said.  _I mean that. I do. I_ _mean it to the core. As long as I can still say it and believe it, everything will be okay. It just has to be._  Blaine breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled. Yeah, everything was going to be okay. He might have mixed emotions about his friend, but Kurt was still number one. Kurt would  _always_  be number one. Even if Rory was quickly becoming number two whether he meant to or not.

The reunited lovers continued to cuddle for another half hour or so before Kurt finally resolved to go home and see his family before the big glee club event Blaine had been telling him about.

When Blaine woke up again, his head was aching. His heart was crying out. He went from a dream that was happy, to a nightmare. Kurt was supposed to make everything okay, and even being there wasn't helping. He began to wonder if that was really the truth—what would happen if seeing Kurt again didn't make everything click back into place in his head?

Refusing to let himself fall back asleep, he got up, looked at himself in the mirror, and wiped his eyes with a tissue. He needed to freshen up—the big event was only another hour away and there was no way he could show up looking like an emotional wreck.

-ooo-

The bowling alley had closed up for an hour before the event so that the station could set up their equipment. With the generous donation from Sugar, the performers were going to have some additional special effects for the evening, and those needed to be placed and adjusted to work just right. Fog machines, extra lighting, confetti cannons. On top of all that, her father made a donation to the cause itself, the money he gave them was enough to feed an army, and they sought only to make more from the customers.

Sam and Robert were a crazed mess. Several of their co-workers were there, helping with equipment, Robert double checking everything, running tests, going through copy, disc selections, and giving the glee members a crash course on DJ equipment. Sam was helping with the equipment, excited by his first significant event with the station.  _Maybe this will earn me some major brownie points with the bosses,_  he thought to himself.

"Alright, listen up everyone," Robert called out. The staff and glee members all stopped what they were doing and gathered around the marketing agent, listening closely. "The doors open in fifteen minutes. Everything's looking good so far. This is gonna be awesome, I know it. Before we get going, I just wanted to thank everyone again, especially the McKinley High glee club, for putting their free time into helping us."

The entire group of teens were beaming with pride as several staff members gave applause, Sam included. It felt odd for him to not be on the same side of the event as his friends: being in a position of responsibility rather than one of entertainment. Even so, it filled him with a sense of accomplishment—a sense of pride—that he had come this far. And then there was his boyfriend: eyes filled with happiness and excitement.  _Yes_ , he decided,  _things are different, but they're also perfect in their own way_.

"Alright guys, last minute prep and then the doors open. Tina, Blaine, Rory, don't forget to be at the doors as soon as they open – you guys are manning the entry way, collecting donations and food. You're one of the most important jobs!" Robert announced. He paused, looking around the open alley, pleased with himself, pleased with his new friends. They really had done a great job.

About ten minutes later, it was time to open. There was already a crowd at the door, people of every age, many of them carrying shopping bags, all of them bundled up for the winter weather. Robert looked around one last time to make sure everyone was in their positions, then waltzed confidently to the door and unlocked it, holding it open.

"Come on in! I hope you're all ready for a fun night!" he greeted as people began to file in. A table was set up for the teens to collect a cover charge - a five dollar fee to come in that went directly to the charity. Rory took the cash from people, putting it in a collection cashbox, Tina directed people where they needed to go, and Blaine put glowing bracelets on the customer's wrists to show they paid.

Tina pointed some people to the table Mitchell and Sugar were manning: Mitchell was taking the bags of food and putting them in boxes to carry out later, while Sugar collected cash donations to add to her own cashbox. Pamphlets explaining the charity were in small stacks not only at the table, but in several other places throughout the bowling alley.

Artie sat at the DJ booth, playing top forty music. He would be doing some actual talking a little later, once the place was filling up and the line died down.

Among the customers coming inside were many familiar faces - people the teens were more than excited to see. First to come was the entire Evans clan - Stacy and Stevie bouncing around excitedly at the sight of 'Mr. Rory.' He hugged them both, and greeted his host parents. They would have to chat later as the crowd was relentlessly coming inside.

"Wow, this turnout in amazing!' Robert said, looking around from the DJ booth. The line at the shoe rental was backing up as people selected their bowling shoes and traded them in for their own. Many others were staking claim to their lanes, choosing which ball they wanted to use and placing it on the return. Many others were at the snack bar, ordering nachos, fries, and various other junk food and drinks.

"You think it's time to get this party rolling yet?" Artie asked, looking back at the marketing agent. Robert gave him a nod. "Aaaaaaaall right everyone, I'm Artie, your DJ for tonight, and I want to welcome you to Bowling for Empty Bowls, sponsored by WJJC radio station!" he announced over the loudspeaker. There were several eager cheers as he went on with his speech. "We're gonna have one heck of a good time tonight, so get your shoes, get on down to the lanes, and let's get these balls a' rollin'!"

Artie heard a snicker from behind him as Sam entered the booth. "Did you really just say that?" he laughed. Artie grinned and shrugged. "Somehow I doubt that's the last pun we hear tonight." Artie gave another mischievous grin, but the raised eyebrow on Robert's face was a reminder to keep it clean - this was a family event, after all.

Artie went on to start playing some music, making a short declaration that requests were welcome. Sam and Robert stepped outside the booth to talk for a moment. "I know I've said it about fifty times, Sam, but you and your friends are just amazing putting this together on short notice," Robert gushed. He reached down to take Sam's hand and shook it. "I can't thank you enough."

Sam smiled. "Hey, no problem. Anything to help out a friend. Besides, we might score points with both our bosses if we pull this off without a hitch," he said with a wink.

-ooo-

The event was turning out to be a success - the lanes filled to capacity, everyone eating, talking, and bowling, having a great time. Mitchell and Sugar lost count of how many boxes of food they collected, as well as how much they made in donations and cover charges.

The line had trickled down to just a few random people coming in every few minutes, so Robert told Sam to get one of the other staff to relieve the glee teens and get ready for their performance.

"You guys ready?" Sam asked, approaching the trio purposefully.

"As ready as we'll be I guess," Tina replied nervously. "Hopefully they like us - they're all wielding large, heavy balls capable of inflicting massive blunt-force trauma and even meant to be thrown if they don't, so..."

Her other three friends' faces filled with wide grins as she suddenly realized her use of the word 'balls' was bringing to mind dirty thoughts. "Oh you guys! Ugh! Dirty minds!"

One of the station staff members finally arrived to take care of the entry duties, releasing Rory, Tina, and Blaine to get ready. "Don't forget, lanes six through twelve," Sam reminded them. Artie wouldn't be dancing with them - the lanes weren't friendly to a wheelchair, but he would still be singing with them - Sam included. The small group stopped by the donation table to retrieve Sugar and Mitchell, another staff member having already arrived to relieve them of duty. Sam kept an eye out to watch for Artie wheeling down from the DJ booth to join the rest of them as they walked toward the lanes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would kindly clear the lanes, we have a special performance for you tonight," Robert's voice boomed over the loudspeaker. Everyone began looking around in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on as one of the staff members quickly walked in front of the lanes to clear everyone back to the seats and ball returns. "I now present to you, the former glee club of McKinley High, with a few songs for your enjoyment!"

The lights in the room went low, fog spreading over the floor of the lanes. As the multicolored lights above began to slowly fade in, everyone could see the glee club members, standing one on each lane, their heads looking down. Suddenly music blared through the speakers, the group snapping their heads up and letting out a loud cry that resembled a rebel yell.

Lights began to flash crazily, the singers beginning the first verse to the Backstreet Boys'  _Larger Than Life_. The crowd began to roar – Sam's generation instantly recognizing the song from their middle school years.

As they sang and danced to the song, the audience could see what the words on the shirts they were wearing. Rory had talked Sam into wearing his Trouty Mouth t-shirt from when the club performed  _Born this Way_  the year before – an event he hadn't been lucky enough to see. The others had quickly gotten Robert's marketing team to make shirts for the rest of them, their names on the back, and their word on the front: Rory, Leprechaun; Sugar, Troubletone; Tina, Brown Eyes; Blaine, Eyebrows; Mitchell, Introvert. Artie was wearing his Four Eyes shirt, even though nobody could see it very well.

By the time the song was over, everyone was cheering for more, waving their arms in the air and dancing along with the synchronized moves of the glee club. The glee club's ability to choreograph in very short periods of time was almost supernatural, but they pulled it off in perfect sync.

Their next number was by Evanescence;  _Bring me to Life._ Tina led with the opening verse, something she very rarely got to do back in the days of Rachel Berry. Sugar sang backup vocals until the chorus where everyone joined in, Sam doing the male rock vocals while the others echoed Tina and Sugar.

The lights for the song turned to shades of blue and purple, the song ending with flashed of yellow, red, and orange, signifying the team 'waking up' as in the lyrics.

Again, the audience was cheering, clapping, and bobbing their heads as they felt the music taking hold of them.

They performed two more songs, including Ke$ha's  _Blow_ , and Lady Gaga's  _Telephone,_ which was a duet by Tina and Sugar, with the others doing backing vocals. The crowd was insane by then, so amped up that they were jumping up and down, singing along, and cheering.

Their final number was Stevie Nicks'  _Edge of Seventeen_ , a song appropriate since most of the glee members were either already seventeen, or soon turning seventeen. Halfway through the song, the glee clubbers ran out into the audience, seeking out their friends who had come to support them, dragging them up 'onstage' to sing with them. It was so much like 'old times' that when the final blast of sound from the song erupted and the performance was over, the entire group of members old and current gathered for an emotional group hug.

-ooo-

The event finally came to an end, and after helping with cleanup, the glee members finally decided to call it a night. Sam offered to give Mitchell a ride home, which he readily accepted.

Only two minutes after getting in Sam's truck, Rory had fallen asleep, leaning up against his boyfriend's shoulder. Mitchell exchanged grins with Sam before averting his eyes, embarrassed that he was witnessing something he considered intimate.

"Mitch, can I ask you something?" Sam finally said softly, so as not to wake his slumbering Irishman.

"Uh, sure, Sam. Anything," the timid boy replied, feeling nervous.  _What is he gonna ask me?_

Sam turned his head just long enough to give the teen a comforting smile before refocusing on the road. "Why are you so reserved?" The question sounded odd to Sam even as he spoke and he feared he had possibly insulted the boy, so he quickly clarified. "I just mean, you seem very nervous a lot, and you look away from people, and just seems like you aren't very confident."

"Uh, well…" Mitchell started searching his mind for an answer. "I guess I've just always been shy. People made fun of me in school, and I never really had any friends. I guess I just... never developed any social skills." As usual, he was staring down at his lap, wringing his hands nervously.

"Well, you shouldn't be like that. You're a nice guy, and you have a lot of talent. You should be more confident. You got friends now, friends who got your back no matter what. Relax a bit, have a little confidence," Sam offered. "A little bit of confidence goes a long way. People see that, and they like talking to people who believe they're just as good and talented as anyone else. You have a little bit of confidence, and you'll get some respect. I promise."

Mitchell sat quietly, mulling it over in his brain. What Sam said made sense, but it also seemed a lot harder than it sounded. "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you or anything," Sam said, wondering if his words of encouragement had had the opposite effect.

"No, I'm not upset. You're right. I should be stronger. I have friends. I guess it just takes some time," the red haired boy assured him. "It helps, you know. That you said all that stuff. It makes sense."

Sam smirked. "Of course it does. Because I'm right." Mitchell looked at him skeptically, both of them giggling quietly. "Okay, see, that's cocky, not confident. There's a difference. Just uh… just follow Rory's example. You see how he is. He believes in himself. You can do the same thing."

"Just follow his example, huh? I think I can do that. He's a good role model. So are you," Mitchell said with a smile. This time, instead of continuing to look down, he looked up, gazing at Sam, not afraid to look at his friend.

When they pulled up in front of Mitchell's house, Rory woke up at the sound of the door opening. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning. "See ye' later me friend," he muttered sleepily as the younger boy hopped out of the truck.

"Okay, Rory. Have a good night," the redhead declared. Before he shut the door, he looked back at Sam. "Thanks, Sam. For the ride, and the talk."

"Anytime. Sleep well," the blonde said as Mitchell closed the door and trudged up to his front door.

"What talk?" Rory asked, confused. "What did I miss?"

Sam smirked. "Just a little talk between friends. Trying to give the boy some confidence, that's all." Rory looked up at him and smiled, his eyes shining brightly even in the dark. When they finally arrived home, the exhausted pair quickly performed their nightly rituals to prepare for bed, and then crawled under the comforter, falling asleep almost as soon as head hit pillow – Sam's arm draped over his boyfriend.

-ooo-

Rory woke up Sunday morning to the sound of hacking and gagging coming from the bathroom. "Sammy? Are ye' okay in there?" he asked, knowing full well that if he were okay, he wouldn't be making such awful noises.

"I'm okay, just don't come in," Sam rasped. "I'll be out in a minute." Rory ignored him and came into the bathroom anyway. Sam was on his knees in front of the toilet, his face red and sweaty. The blonde reached up quickly to flush down the vomit before Rory had a chance to see it. "I told you not to come in."

Rory smirked. "Yeah, right. Me boyfriend is puking his guts out and I'm just supposed to go watch TV." Sam couldn't help but chuckle despite his throat being raw. Rory walked over to the ailing boy and felt Sam's forehead with the back of his hand. "Ye'r warm. A fever I bet." Sam groaned as Rory went to the sink, turning on the cold water. He took the washcloth from the countertop and soaked it, wrung it out, and walked back over to Sam.

Sam was busy gagging again, having nothing left in his stomach to throw up. His mouth was so dry he couldn't even spit. Rory crouched down next to him, holding the wet washrag to his boyfriend's forehead. The cold water felt good against Sam's burning skin. "Here, hold this," Rory instructed, standing back up and filling a small Dixie cup of cool water.

Rory crouched back down and put the cup to Sam's lips. "Lean back and drink this. It'll help with ye'r throat. I know it has to be sore by now." Sam didn't reply but simply took hold of the cup, and drank. The cold water was soothing to his scratchy throat, just as promised.

"Thank you," Sam rasped. He sat back on his haunches and looked up at the brunette with pleading eyes and sniffling. "I think I might be sick," he muttered with a wry grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Ye' think? Ye'r head is hot, means ye' 'ave a fever. I'm gonna go to-"

Sam started to laugh. "Go where? The pharmacy isn't within walking distance and you don't know how to drive."

"Well, I'll call Blaine, he can take me," Rory replied indignantly.

Sam shook his head. "No, you aren't calling Blaine. We can't rely on him every time you need a ride. I'll call mom and she can bring me something to take."

Rory shrugged. "I suppose ye'r right. It's not fair to him." He then sighed and gazed at his boyfriend, down in the floor, his face flushed and beaded with salty liquid. "Give ye'rself a minute and then get up. Put on some shorts, ye' don't want Mom to see ye' naked. She might 'ave a heart attack when she sees what a big boy she raised."

Sam screwed up his face. "Rory, that's disgusting. But thanks. I'll be out in a minute." Rory nodded and left the bathroom, stopping by the nightstand next to their bed. Their cell phones were sitting next to each other, charging. He picked his up and quickly slid through the contacts until he got 'Mom and Dad' and called.

"Hello?" Mrs. Evans answered. "Rory, is that you honey?"

"Yes, it's me. I 'ave a small favor to ask of ye'."

"Okay, what is it?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Rory cleared his throat, still in the 'just woke up' mode. "Sammy's not feelin' well, and he needs something for throwing his stomach out."

Mrs. Evans couldn't help but chuckle at Rory's attempt to understand yet another American slang phrase. "Okay, dear. No problem. I'll run to the pharmacy and get him something. Does he have a fever?"

"He does. We don't 'ave a thermometer so I don't know how much it is. He's burnin' up though," Rory explained, listening out for Sam, in case he called for help for any reason.

"Okay, I'll pick one up, too. I'll be there shortly. Try getting him to eat some toast with mustard on it. Always worked for me. The mustard gives it enough flavor to make it tolerable."

"Yes, ma'am," Rory replied. They bid each other goodbye, and then Rory went to the dresser to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for himself. "Sammy, I'm gonna fix ye' something to eat. Mom said ye' can 'ave mustard toast."

Sam just grunted out something that sounded like a thank you, while Rory went to the kitchen to set to his task of fixing Sam some toast and ice water. A few minutes later, Sam came trudging into the kitchen, wearing just a pair of boxers. "I don't wanna eat anything," he moaned.

"Too bad. Mom said ye' 'ave to. Even I know if ye' take medicine on an empty stomach it makes ye' feel sicker. Just eat the toast and drink ye'r water. She should be here soon," Rory instructed. "Go on to the table, I'll bring it to ye'."

After bringing him his toast and water, Rory sat down at the table with him. "You're such a domestic," Sam teased. "Like a housewife, but so much hotter."

"Sammy, ye' call me an anything-wife again, I'll kick ye' in the bollocks," the younger teen threatened.

"It was just an expression," Sam replied, feigning fear. "Trust me, you ain't no wife. I just meant you take care of me, the way a wife takes care of her husband."

Rory looked skeptical, but finally smiled. "Just eat ye'r toast, ye' silly American." It was the first time he had ever poked fun at Sam, or anyone, referencing their American heritage. If people could tease him about being Irish, it was only fair.

Just as Sam finished the last bite, the doorbell rang, his mother having arrived with some sort of medication. Rory refused to let her inside, citing that she might catch something, but Mrs. Evans wouldn't hear it.

"I'm immune, it's a mom thing," she said as she squeezed her way past her 'adoptive' son. Sam giggled, then coughed, having heard his mother in the hall from the table in the living room. "Hello honey, let's see what's wrong."

"I'll be fine, mom," Sam insisted, but when he coughed again his entire statement was moot. "Really. I'll take some meds and be fine by tomorrow."

His mother put the back of her hand on his forehead, just as Rory had done. "You're burning up! You have a fever, Samuel." Sam went to argue, but Rory stepped in first.

"Don't worry, he'll be taking his arse to the doctor tomorrow, I promise ye' that," the teen assured her. "Oh, sorry for the 'arse,'" he apologized, turning pink in the cheeks.

Mrs. Evans grinned and stroked the boy's cheek lightly. "Oh honey, I've heard far worse out of my husband." She turned back to her blonde haired baby, pushing the wet hair from his forehead. "You listen to me right now, Sam. You're going to the doctor first thing in the morning. Don't give Rory a hard time, or else… or else…" she rolled her eyes upward, searching for some sort of punishment.

"I'll beat his arse with me belt!" Rory provided with a dangerous grin. "And he knows I'll do it, too!"

Mrs. Evans giggled, accepting the suggestion and ignoring the inclination that there might be more to that statement than she wanted to know about. Oddly enough, there wasn't any hidden meaning in his suggestion.

"Well, I'll leave you to take care of him," she said, addressing Rory. She handed him the small bag she was carrying which contained a thermometer and some over the counter medication. "If he gives you trouble, you know what to do. He's a brat when he's sick sometimes."

Sam glared at his mother, and then at his boyfriend as if the two were conspiring against him. Mrs. Evans bent over and kissed Sam on the top of his head, then kissed Rory on the cheek before letting herself out through the front door.

Rory took out the items from the bag, setting the bottle of meds on the table. He unboxed the thermometer and smiled at Sam, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"You are  _not_  sticking that up my ass, Rory Flanagan!" the older teen said sternly. "No way, no how." He wiggled in his chair as if securing safety of his hindquarters.

The Irishman snapped his fingers, disappointed. "Shucks. I was goin' to put this right on in there and see if ye' could handle it." He giggled like a little kid, Sam cutting his eyes at him. "Okay, okay, calm down. Open ye'r mouth."

Sam sat back and did as he was told, Rory stepping in front of him with the thermometer and moving it toward his mouth. Sam let him put it under his tongue and closed his mouth, rolling his eyes. After the thermometer beeped, Rory removed it and looked at the reading.

"One hundred. Not too bad. Ye' take whate'er this stuff is, stay in bed, and go to the doctor in the morning and ye'll be just fine for Christmas holiday," the brunette announced confidently. He placed the thermometer on the table and picked up the bottle instead. Reading the label, he noted that it caused drowsiness.

"This'll make ye' sleepy. I think ye' should take a shower first. That'll make ye' feel a little better already. Then ye'll take this stuff, crawl into bed, and fall asleep. I'll even set up ye'r laptop so ye' can watch  _Avatar._ "

Sam smiled adoringly at his boyfriend. "You're so sweet. I'll be good, I won't argue. How can I argue when you're offering  _Avatar_? And that look you got on your face, it's so cute. All determined and in charge. If I felt better I'd be turned on," he said, winking suggestively before coughing again, effectively shooting whatever innuendo he'd been trying to make in the face.

Rory sighed and shook his head. "Only ye' would be thinking with ye'r dick right now, Sammy. Go get in the shower already. I'll get ye' set up in the bedroom." He gathered up Sam's plate and glass, walking toward the kitchen when Sam stopped him.

"Rory?" Sam called after him. The boy paused and looked back, cocking his head slightly. "Thanks. I love you."

Rory smiled. "I love ye' too, Sammy," he replied softly. "Now get to ye'r shower," he added sternly. Sam chuckled, got up, and headed to the bathroom, dropping his boxers on the floor on his way in. Having dropped off the dishes in the kitchen, Rory followed him into the room and picked up the dirty drawers, throwing them in the hamper, shaking his head.  _Such a mess, me Sam. Oh, Lord, help him get better so he can be happy on ye'r son's day._  He prayed. Rory found himself praying more and more lately, guilt for not going to mass starting to nag at him.

-ooo-

Sam went to the doctor on Monday, the office packed with people coughing, sneezing, sniffling and groaning in misery. He had left Rory at home, not wanting him to be around so many sick people all squeezed together in one room. After waiting for an hour, he finally was called back, and after another half hour saw the actual doctor. The visit itself took less than fifteen minutes, Sam leaving with a prescription and general instructions to stay in bed, drink clear liquids, and keep something on his stomach.

When Sam arrived home, he found Rory with a scarf tied around his head, covering his nose and mouth, his hands covered in rubber gloves, kneeling in the floor of the bathroom and scrubbing the toilet. A large can of Lysol was on the bathroom sink—which was, itself, filled to the brim with water and cleanser. The older teen couldn't help but laugh (and cough) at the sight of the younger boy.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, still chuckling.

"Ahm cleaninf ff bffroom," Rory answered through the scarf. Sam chuckled again, not understanding a word the boy had said. Rory rolled his eyes and took off one of the gloves to pull down the scarf. "I said I'm cleaning the bathroom."

"With a scarf around your head?"

"I didn't 'ave anything else to protect me from the fumes. I 'ave to keep e'erything sanitized or else I might catch something." Rory stood up, stretching his legs a little. "So, what did the doctor say?"

Stifling laughter, Sam explained to him that according to the doctor, it was just something going around, nothing major to worry about. He should be perfectly fine in a couple of days. Irritated that this 'bug' was going to keep Sam feeling bad during the holidays, the boy sighed and pulled the scarf back on his face, returning to his task. Sam, meanwhile, paused in the bedroom long enough to strip back down to his boxers, grab a pillow and a spare blanket from the closet, and then put it all on the couch. He took a short trip to the kitchen to take his first dosage of medicine before retiring to the couch, leaning up against the pillow, putting the blanket over his lap, and taking command of the remote control for the rest of the afternoon.

-ooo-

Luckily the next morning, Sam was feeling quite a bit better. Aside from still being a bit congested and the occasional coughing, he was in good shape to handle Christmas dinner with his family.

At Mrs. Evans' request, Rory brought with him a large chocolate potato cake, this time topped off with chocolate drizzle. Upon peeking under the tinfoil, the woman's eyes lit up in excitement.

As expected, the entire Evans clan had come over to share in the dinner. By now, Rory was recognized by most of the family, many even expecting him to be there.

"Well hello there to my favorite Irish cutie-pie!" the familiar cheerful voice of Michelle rang in Rory's ears as she threw her arm over his shoulder, causing him to almost drop his plate of food.

"Hi, Michelle. It's really nice to see ye' again," the boy greeted her. She let go of him, allowing him to turn and give her a once-over. She was wearing a stylish red dress slit up the side, her hair hanging loose with large curls, streaks of bright red framing her face. "Ye' look really pretty tonight!"

Michelle feigned bashfulness. "Aww, you're so sweet. You're looking handsome yourself," she replied, lightly touching the fabric of his vest. She lowered her voice a little bit and smiled. "So, how's domestic life? Sam being a good boy?"

Rory chuckled at her discretion. "It's grand. He's a little messy sometimes, forgets I 'ave homework, but I really like it."

"Are you talking trash about me again?" Sam asked, coming up behind them and smirking. "Don't listen to anything he says. I'm perfectly tidy." The younger teen snickered in disagreement.

"A little under the weather, cuz?" the young woman inquired, raising an eyebrow at Sam's congested-sounding voice. "It's not contagious I hope. I have a date this weekend and can't afford to be sick."

Sam snorted, then coughed. "A date, huh? He's gonna have his hands full," he grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not contagious."

The trio continued to talk for a good while, the boys telling Michelle about the charity event and Rory's entry into the contest coming up in January. In turn, she relayed to them her last two dates, both of which were disasters. Michelle had a knack for picking either the jocks with no brains who only wanted to get in her pants, or the more educated boys whose egos were so large, they may as well be dating themselves.

The dinner party dissipated around ten, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Evans to clean up. Sam took advantage of his 'not feeling well' to scuttle himself and Rory out the door before they had to help, despite Rory's protest that he should at least assist with the dishes.

The boys had decided to hold off on trading gifts until the next morning, with the rest of the family. Mrs. Evans insisted they arrive first thing in the morning, around seven, so that the kids wouldn't have to wait longer than necessary.

-ooo-

When Sam and Rory arrived on Christmas morning, they were greeted by two excited children. "Sammy! Mr. Rory! Yay, you're here!" Stacy squealed in delight as she leapt into the arms of the Irishman. "Mommy, is it safe to hug Sammy yet? He's not coughing like yesterday," the little girl inquired, still hanging on to Rory for dear life.

"Yes, you can hug your brother, just don't be in his face," Mrs. Evans answered her. Happy to have permission, Stacy literally threw herself from Rory's arms and right into Sam's, wrapping her limbs around him and squeezing.

"Oof!" Sam exclaimed. "You're almost too big to be jumping on me like that!" That caused her to hold on tighter, nuzzling her head against his chest.

Stevie, too macho to be throwing himself about, decided to show Rory the new handshake his uncle had taught him the night before. It was an elaborate bumping of fists, sliding of palms, tugging of fingers, and ended with a 'bro hug' as his uncle had called it. "Is this an American thing?" Rory asked, amused.

"Aww no, Mr. Rory! This is an  _Evans_  thing!" Stevie replied, putting on his best punk impression. They both started laughing as Sam let Stacy out of his arms and quickly yanked his brother into his grasp. "Sammy! I'm too old to be picking up!"

Sam scoffed at him. "Oh hush and pretend you like me or something," Sam chuckled. Stevie scowled, feigning annoyance, but leaned into his brother and hugged him. Placated, Sam set him back down on his feet.

"I thought you two just couldn't wait to open presents," Mr. Evans teased.

"That was you, dad!" Stevie pointed out. "You were whining because they hadn't got here yet!" His father cut him a playful glare before ushering the entire group into the living room in front of the Christmas tree.

As they had done the previous year, the two children sorted out the gifts, handing them out into little stacks in front of each family member. This year, Rory felt better prepared for the holiday, having bought gifts for everyone, when the previous year he had been caught off guard when the rest of the family bestowed gifts on him.

The sounds of paper tearing and ribbons snapping filled the room as eager children (and grown up children) tore into their presents, exclamations of surprise and gratitude thrown in as well.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans grinned mischievously as they handed over a card to Sam, marked 'The Flanevans Boys' on the front.

"Flanevans was your father's idea. I liked 'Sory' myself," Mrs. Evans announced with a smile.

"Where do you guys come up with this stuff?" Sam laughed. "I thought only the glee club made up names like that."

Rory smiled and took the envelope, reading it and giggling. Mr. Evans' handwriting was the same messy scrawl his son used. "We were your age once, too, you know. We did stuff like that, too," the man replied. "Now hush and open your card."

Sam and Rory exchanged glances and then both shrugged. Rory handed the envelope back to Sam, who tore it open and slid the card out, handing it to Rory to read aloud. He opened it card and a piece of paper fell into his lap. Sam reached over and picked up the paper, looking at it.

On the slip of paper was a picture of a table with short legs, and a date on it. Rory recited to words on the card, concluding with a message that their new coffee table would be delivered on Saturday.

"Thank ye' both so much," Rory said, smiling from ear to ear. "Ye' didn't 'ave to do that."

"But we're sure glad you did," Sam added quickly, standing up and leaning over to each of his parents, hugging them. "That's awesome, guys. It looks great!"

"It was one of the few pieces of furniture you still needed," Mrs. Evans said proudly. "We picked it out together, can you believe it? Your dad, who has no sense of style, actually agreed that this was a good piece."

Mr. Evans gave her a skeptical glare. "I just knew they needed a place to set all the beers they were drinking for their wild parties." Both teens giggled, the two children joining in.

"Sammy gets drunk! Sammy gets drunk!" the children chanted. Stevie got up and started swaying, mumbling gibberish. Sam turned and grabbed him, boring his knuckle into his head teasingly. "Hey, ow! Meanie!"

Stacy fell into peals of laughter at her brothers' playfulness. She was about to join in the fun when Mrs. Evans pointed out that there were still gifts to open. Both boys still had one each at their feet, the last of their piles.

Neither teen had an abundance of money since moving into the apartment, most of it going toward things they needed, such as food and toiletries, gas for the truck, and the occasional meal out. They had agreed to keep it reasonable.

Rory went first, opening the large package carefully. He tore open the box and inside was a brand new messenger bag. He took it out to inspect it, this new one having more pockets inside for organization, a nicer strap, and better material all around. "Your other one was starting to get a little raggedy," Sam explained with a slight grin. "I would have gotten you all leather but we agreed on reasonable, and a whole cow was overdoing it."

"Thank ye' so much, Sammy! I love it!" Rory squealed in joy, leaning over and giving his boyfriend a tight hug.

"Kiss him, Mr. Rory! Kiss him!" Stacy cheered. Aiming to please, the young teen leaned back over and gave Sam a peck on the cheek, preferring not to make a big scene, especially in front of Stevie, who was dealing rather well with the concept of his two older brothers having a special friendship.

Rory then watched as Sam opened his own gift. He pulled it out of the cardboard box to reveal a circular box, a guitar etched in the wooden lid. Sam opened it up and inside was a set of new guitar strings, and in the center, a bottle of Sam's favorite cologne.

"Aww, thank you, baby. It's about time I re-strung that thing. Then I might play it more. I've been slacking," he commented, referring to his guitar. He took out the cologne and spritzed some on himself, and then put a spritz on Rory.

"Do me next!" Stevie insisted. Sam chuckled and leaned over to spray his brother. The young boy cheered in delight. "Aww yeah, now I smell like a grown up!"

 _Just don't go around trying to pick up chicks like a grown up and you'll be fine,_  Mrs. Evans thought to herself.

All of the presents having been opened, it was time for breakfast, followed by relaxation on the couch, watching  _A Christmas Story_  and other Christmas cartoons while the children happily played with their toys. Later on they shared in a delicious lunch, and then the boys went home, thanking their parents once again.

When they got back home, Rory set up his laptop so that they could share in a Skype session with his own parents and Seamus. For dinner, they decided to splurge and have a nice dinner at BreadstiX. By the end of the night, they were both tired and ready for bed, snuggling together until they fell asleep in each other's arms.


	39. Episode 39: Audition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Good god, am I really up to 39 chapters? O_O Insanity I tell you! Translation: I have nothing interesting to put for author's notes this time. ;) Sory this is taking so long to put up. This chapter is largely unbeta-ed. R45 is back in school and working with a crazy schedule, so we're making do with what we can He's the best beta ever so I can't complain, I couldn't ask for better!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45  
> **

**Recap:**  The glee club put on an amazing performance for the charity event, but Blaine was bummed because Kurt couldn't show up, just adding to his loneliness. Sam got sick so Christmas was a little underwhelming and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 39: Audition**

Two days after Christmas, Sam finally got over his cold completely. Rory was glad—he was tired of following his boyfriend around with a can of Lysol and listening to him sniffling and loudly blowing his nose. Sam was happy just because he could sleep in their bed again—Sam insisted Rory take the bed while he took the couch himself. They were both excited to finally get some intimate time, so far every single night up until New Year's Eve.

"It seems like just yesterday we were sitting in front of the TV, waiting for the ball to drop. Now it's time to ring in twenty-thirteen," Sam said wistfully, his arm slung over Rory's shoulders as they sat on the couch, watching the TV.

"Ye'r so sentimental, Sammy," Rory teased, turning his head and kissing the blonde on the cheek. His attention gained, Sam turned his head and captured the boy's lips, kissing him deeply. "And ye'r the best kisser, too," he added when they parted lips.

Sam scoffed playfully. "How would you know, mister? I'm the only one you've ever kissed. I might be really bad and you'd never know it."

Rory kissed him again. "I could open up a kissing booth and find out."

Sam laughed at the memory that came to mind. "Uhm, no. Finn did that year before last and ended up with mono—uh the kissing flu. I just got over being sick, let's avoid anymore illness."

"Oh, so ye'r just worried about that, ye' don't care if I go on a kissing spree, huh?"

The older teen looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Rory Flanagan, if you go kissing anyone else, I'll drop an anvil on your head Bugs Bunny style," he threatened playfully.

"Don't ye' worry, Sammy. Ye'r the only trouty mouth I'll be kissin' the rest of me life, I hope," Rory declared, reaching over and holding Sam's hand and squeezing. He leaned his head against Sam's shoulder, both of them shifting their focus back to the TV. "Only two minutes left."

"Here's hoping the New Year starts off with your awesome win at the competition!" Sam said, smiling. "And I know you will win. No doubt about it."

Rory blushed. "I 'ave just as much chance as anyone else."

"Nah, you have a better chance, because I can guarantee you're better than anyone else they got."

"No pressure or anything, Sam," Rory replied. Despite his jovial tone, he really did feel the pressure laying on him heavier and heavier. He knew Sam meant well trying to boost his confidence, but all it did was remind him just how important it was that he win. If he lost, there would be no chance of the glee club reforming and going to nationals, and it would be all his fault.

The TV counted down the last seconds of the year, hitting zero as the ball dropped down from the large spire, fireworks going off and bright lights flashing as the New Year officially changed over. As tradition, the two boys kissed to bring in New Year, but instead of it being the typical kiss, they took it as a cue to start their first sexual experience of the year.

An hour later, they were lying together, naked on the couch, satisfied and exhausted. Rory's back ached slightly, his leg muscles tight as Sam had kept him on his back, pushing his knees against his chest, penetrating him as deeply as possible.

"I wonder how many more times it will take before ye'r big dick wears me arse out too much," Rory teased lightly.

Sam giggled. "I never noticed a problem. You're just as tight as our first time. Now if I started falling in, we've got a problem." Rory made a face, the mental image too much for his liking.

"And on that note, let's go to bed. I'm tired, ye' tuckered me out. Again," Rory chuckled. Sam laughed in agreement, getting up and then bending down to help his boyfriend off the couch. They trotted to the bedroom, hand in hand, plopping down on the bed and falling asleep shortly after.

-ooo-

"Do you want the green tie, or the blue one?" Sam called from the bedroom. Rory stood in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting his hair. He had experimented with a few different styles, but Sam convinced him to stick with his normal side part.

"Either one," Rory mumbled back. Sam rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's indecisiveness and chose the blue one—to match Rory's eyes. His eyes were one of his best features and anything that would help draw attention to his beautiful face was a plus.

The blonde stepped into the bathroom and casually slipped behind his boyfriend, reaching up front to place the tie and pull the strap around. His fingers fumbled around a moment as he adjusted the pre-tied bowtie, pulling it taut and fastening the strap in place. He turned the boy around and looked him over. "Perfect." He smiled and leaned forward, placing a quick peck on the boy's lips.

Rory was about to turn back around and gaze in the mirror again but Sam held him in place. "You look fine. Time to go, give the mirror a break," he said with a slight chuckle. He grabbed the teen's hand and led him out of the bathroom. Rory snuck one quick look back toward the mirror, but not quick enough to check himself.

Cleveland, OH was a little more than three hours away –a short trip for the boys to make for the day. The plan was to drive up and be in the city by ten, get Rory registered and signed in to find out what his time slot was, and then figure out what to do from there. With luck, they would be home by six.

Rory was silent most of the ride to Cleveland. His nerves were too jittery. He tapped his feet nervously, wrung his hands, and kept staring out the window. "You better calm down, baby. You're gonna work yourself up and either make yourself sick, force yourself to mess up, or both. You need to relax," Sam replied, sliding his hand over onto the boy's knee.

"I-I know, Sammy. I just 'aven't had something so important on me shoulders before. If I can't even pass the audition, then it's o'er, and it'll be me fault, and e'eryone will hate me and-"

"Oh stop," Sam scolded. "Think positive. You're gonna go in there, sing your song, totally kick ass at it, and then smile real big when they tell you that you passed the audition and going on to the real thing. Then you're gonna smile even bigger when I take you to a steak dinner afterward."

Rory looked over at Sam and grinned. "Okay, Sam. I'll try to get me head on," he promised. He closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten in his head, taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself down. When he opened his eyes back up, he felt a lot better. Now when he looked out the window, he saw the scenery pass by as opposed to blurs of color that agitated his nerves.

As they planned, Sam pulled into the parking lot just before ten. Giving Rory a quick kiss, Sam jumped out of the truck and then held the door open for him, then looked him over to make sure his outfit was in order.

The place the auditions were being held was nothing special—in fact it was just a high school. A sign was posted on the door for competitors to come inside and report to the auditorium with a picture of a small map, showing exactly where that was. Opening the door and stepping inside, they could both detect the familiar scent of a freshly sanitized school building.

"Maybe they just cleaned—dress to impress and all that," Sam scoffed, wrinkling his nose. They walked side by side down the halls until arriving at the auditorium door. There was already a line of six people, but more could be seen inside. "Stop with the nervousness. Confidence, remember?"

Rory nodded. "Right. Confidence," he said under his breath. None of the six contestants in line had someone with them, and not wanting to stand out like a sore thumb, Rory requested that Sam stay off to the side and wait for him. Sam leaned up against the wall several yards away, watching the people milling about. Nervous teenagers coming in and out of the second set of auditorium doors, a few of them with guitars, most of them clutching sheet music to either practice lyrics one last time, or supply the pianist with. A few of them were giggling in a small cluster, obviously ogling some of the more attractive boys.

His heart pounding, Rory stepped up to the registration table. The lady behind the table asked his name and school, then for his ID. He handed over his ID and student visa, leaving the woman slightly confused.

"I'm and exchange student, from Ireland, ma'am," he said timidly. He was already feeling nervous and this sudden bewildered look on the face of the registrar wasn't helping. He watched as she leaned over to the woman next to her-apparently her supervisor-and inquired as to the rules about an exchange student participating in the contest. "Is something wrong?"

The woman finally sat upright again and smiled. "No, not at all. You're just the first exchange student to register. I wanted to make sure everything was in order," she said. She handed him a folder, then asked for his signature on a log sheet. "Good luck to you."

"Thank ye'," he replied, wandering off to the side, toward Sam.

"Everything okay?" the blonde asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rory nodded his head. "Yeah, they just wanted to make sure they had e'erything right, since I'm the first exchange student to register."

"So what's in the folder?" Sam stood up straight as Rory moved in front of him, the boy's back against Sam's chest, Sam resting his chin on Rory's shoulder. Rory thumbed through the various papers and brochures. "Looks like a bunch of ads. Probably sponsors."

"I think so. Except for this," the brunette said, sliding out a single half-sheet of paper. On it was a short welcome message followed by his time slot and instructions. "It looks like I'm singing at one fifteen."

"Oh, well, that gives us time to catch some lunch if you want to," the older teen suggested. Rory's face paled.

"No, I think I'll pass on that. If I eat, I 'ave a feelin' I might get sick. Me stomach is all tangled up," the boy admitted. "Ye' can get something if ye' want to. I don't mind."

Sam shrugged. "Nah, I'll be fine. It just means I'll have a bigger appetite for dinner."

"Oh my god, there you are! Did I miss it?" they heard a familiar female voice exclaim. The boys turned around to see Michelle darting down the hallway, looking slightly silly trying to run in a tight pink skirt. She threw her arms around Sam, hugging him tight.

"No, you didn't miss anything, unless you wanted to watch him at the registration table," Sam said casually. "What are you doing here?"

Michelle hugged Rory before she answered. "I wanted to see his big audition, dummy!" she said with a playful huff. "I couldn't miss my new little cousin's big moment!"

Rory blushed at the mention of being her 'new little cousin'. "I don't know how to tell ye' this, but it says here on the rule sheet that nobody can come in with me. I 'ave to go by meself."

Michelle slumped her shoulders. "Seriously? But... I wanted to watch." She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "Hey, Sam, you think we could sneak in?" Rory looked over at Sam with a pleading expression.

"No, Michelle, we are  _not_  sneaking in. We aren't doing  _anything_  that might mess this up for him. We'll just have to wait out here," Sam said sternly, eyeing his cousin.

"Fine, fine. Take all my fun away," she sighed. She then turned her attention to Rory. "What time is your audition slot? Can't I at least peek in the window?" Her gaze shifted toward the doors, where the windows were carefully covered up with black construction paper. "Okay or maybe not."

"Calm down, you're just gonna make Rory more nervous. He's already a bag of nerves," Sam scolded lightly.

The woman put her hands on Rory's chest, patting him lightly. "Oh, right, sorry." She brushed invisible dust off of his shirt and straightened up his collar. "Yes, well, what time slot did you have again?"

"One fifteen," Rory answered. "There's plenty of time for ye' and Sammy to get some lunch if ye' want."

Before Michelle could ask why he wasn't eating, Sam filled her in. "He doesn't wanna eat because he thinks he might throw it up. Nerves and all." Michelle gave Rory a comforting smile.

"You'll do just fine. You can sing your song and then we can go out to eat tonight," she announced, facing the younger teen. The young crooner smiled appreciatively at the woman's enthusiasm and support, but secretly wished she would change the subject to anything else, just so he could focus on something else for a while to calm him down a bit.

"Hey, I claimed dinner. You can come with us, though," Sam interrupted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Whatever, we'll end up at an eating establishment this afternoon at some point. Hmm, I sure hope the bathrooms here are clean. I'll be right back," she said, looking around for a sign of some sort. Spotting one, she wandered purposefully over to the restroom.

Sam grinned goofily at his boyfriend. "Don't let her get you worked up. Everything will be just fine." Chuckling and sighing, Rory nodded, forcing himself to look confident.

-ooo-

Michelle was famished, so the trio visited the cafeteria, where students were already filing in from their classes to start their lunch breaks. They recognized several of the other contestants standing in line for meals, but Michelle decided to just visit the vending machines instead.

Rory was very quiet at first, but Michelle never gave up on trying to get him talking, and finally she was able to ease the tension and get the boy to relax a little bit. They updated each other on what had gone on since they had last seen each other (all of a couple weeks), and traded idle small talk.

"So... burning question, Ror," Michelle stated. "Are you staying here for college?"

All three of them were suddenly silent, the din of the students' chattering looming into their ears. Strangely enough, nobody had really brought the topic up recently. "I... yes, I want to. I just 'ave to get the paperwork approved to do it. Well rather, mam and pap 'ave to get it together."

Michelle nodded thoughtfully, the rested her chin on her hand, watching him. "What are you gonna study?" More awkward silence from the three of them. Their eyes rested on Rory, his own head looking downward bashfully. "Why are you blushing? Are you studying to be a stripper like your boyfriend? You don't have to be shy, I won't judge you."

Rory turned his head up and stared at Sam. "Stripper?"

Sam sighed. "I am  _not_  nor have I  _ever_  been a stripper." He glared hard at his cousin, sending giggles throughout her lungs. "She just says that because when I was thirteen-"

"When he was thirteen, he apparently forgot that people can see through windows, and he was down to his skivvies, dancing in front of the mirror and checking out his itty bitty muscles," Michelle teased. "Oh it was so sad!"

"Shut up!" Sam growled at her. Rory was giggling, his eyes tearing up from laughing so hard.

"I don't know what a skivvies is, but baby Sammy giving himself a look in the mirror is priceless!" the teen squealed, despite Sam's disapproving glare.

Sam was turning red from embarrassment. "Skivvies are underwear. Briefs. Tighty whities," Michelle explained. Rory nodded his head in understanding.

"I was just looking to see how my exercising was working. I had to get a head start so all the girls would give me some attention," Sam said confidently. "Of course then I ended up in an all-boys boarding school so it didn't matter. How did we even get on this subject anyway?"

"I was asking what Rory wanted to be when he grew up. I just wanted to make sure he knew I didn't approve of a life of stripping," Michelle answered smugly. "So yeah, what are you gonna study?"

Yet again there was an awkward moment of silence before Rory answered her. "I uh... I want to... I want to be a teacher," he said.

"A teacher?" Sam asked, surprised. "Why didn't I know this?"

"Ye' ne'er asked. I want to be a teacher. For special kids," the teen clarified, refusing to look Sam in the eyes. Somehow he felt embarrassed about his desire to teach children, perhaps because he hadn't ever brought it up before, and here it was being exposed even though he hadn't planned on it.

"Special kids?" the raven-haired girl asked, wanting a definition. Some people thought special meant retarded, others thought it meant just slow to learn.

Rory nodded. "Yes. Special kids. Kids like Sammy, with learning blocks, like dyslexia. Kids that 'ave trouble reading, writing, or even some basic math."

"Sam, did you inspire this?" Michelle asked with a grin.

Sam shrugged. "I uh... I don't know, Rory, did I? Or have you always wanted to do that?"

Rory's face flushed deeper. "Yes, ye' made me want to do it, Sammy," he confessed. "I ne'er really knew what I wanted to do, but when I met ye', and ye' told me about ye'r dyslexia, it made me so happy when I could help ye'. At least, I like to think I did."

Not caring if anyone saw them, Sam leaned across the table and planted a gentle kiss on the boy's lips. "Trust me, you helped me. I might not have passed English class if you hadn't pushed me along. Kind of ironic really, an Irish kid helping an American kid pass English class."

"I think it's wonderful he wants to be a special ed teacher," Michelle exclaimed. "They could learn more than just regular school topics - there's so much they can learn just about someone from another country! How exciting!"

Rory smiled at the praise being given to him. He truthfully had never mentioned it before because he thought Sam might feel offended, even if there was no logical reason for Sam to be upset. He also hadn't wanted to embarrass Sam, thinking that perhaps if people found out he was the reason Rory wanted to become a special education teacher, it might make people think less of him, or even make fun of him, and there was no way Rory wanted to be responsible for that.

Sam looked at his watch. "Hey, it's getting close to time for you to be ready for the big moment. We should head back," he said, nudging Rory's foot under the table with his own.

The younger teen swallowed hard, his nervousness starting to creep back in.

"Oh come on, don't be nervous! You'll knock 'em dead!" Michelle encouraged. She stood up, adjusted her skirt, and then grabbed Rory's hand, yanking him to his feet. "Let's go get this done so the others can go home disappointed."

"No pressure or anything," Sam said sarcastically. "And unhand my boyfriend, only  _I_  get to hold his hand," he added playfully, standing up and grabbing Rory's hand away from Michelle's.

"Grabby ain't ya?" she giggled. They left the table, Michelle dropping their trash off in the bin on the way out of the cafeteria.

The entire walk to the auditorium, Rory felt his stomach tightening up. The big moment when he would make his audition was minutes away, and the fate of the entire glee club rested on whether or not he even passed the audition. Everything that would happen after that would be even more stressful, but at least then he would know he was in the running. Only ten people would make it, and only one of those ten would win. No, he wasn't worked up at all.

"Did you hear me?" Sam asked, rubbing his boyfriend's shoulder. "I said you need to let them know you're here for your time slot." Rory hadn't heard a word Sam said before that, his mind was so wrapped up in inner panic. He turned to face Sam, his blue eyes big and pleading. "Aww, don't worry, baby. Just go in there and do your thing. Don't be scared."

"Thank ye', Sammy," Rory whispered, taking a deep breath. "I'll be thinking about ye' the whole time. Ye' give me confidence ye' know."

Sam smiled and gave him a quick peck on the forehead and watched him as he walked purposefully to the registration table. The blonde watched as Rory was given last minute instructions and then the door to the auditorium opened, permitting him entry.

-ooo-

The auditorium wasn't much different from the one at McKinley. The colors of the upholstery were different, the stage looked a little smaller, and the seats weren't quite as crowded. He stepped up onto the stage, his heart pounding. A single mic stand was in the middle of the stage, and three people sitting out in the audience several rows back.

"Uh hi, I'm Rory Flanagan," he managed to get out. He prayed his jitteriness wasn't showing through.

"Hello, Rory. I'm Kevin MacKnight, one of the coordinators of the Project. I see you'll be singing 'Falling Slowly' for us today," the man in the middle said. The bright lights made it difficult to see exactly what he looked like, but his voice was friendly and casual.

"Yes, sir. It's me favorite song from me favorite Irish band, Celtic Thunder," Rory replied. He hoped that no further explanation of his song choice would be needed since he didn't have some deep meaning to it, it was simply a song he loved that suited his voice and one of few solo songs by the group.

"Never heard of them. I'll make a note to look them up. That's the great thing about iTunes, and I love being exposed to new music," Kevin announced. His relaxed manner made Rory feel instantly more at ease. He wasn't standing in front of three intimidating, critical sets of ears with the tactless nonsense that Simon Cowell spewed out. These were three normal people, listening to a bunch of students and selecting whom they thought had the most potential.

Kevin cleared his throat. "'Scuse me. Getting over a cough," he explained. "Just to let you know, what's going to happen is you sing your song selection for us, and then we'll go over your performance amongst ourselves before the next person comes in. We'll be taking notes so that when you come back in for your review we can give you any constructive criticism you might benefit from, and of course let you know if you were selected. By the time everyone leaves here today, we hope they will have gained some insight in their talent regardless of being chosen or not."

Rory nodded his head in acknowledgement. Kevin had basically confirmed everything he had been thinking in his head. There was no animosity here, no desire to tear people down. He could do this, just as Sam said he could.

"Go ahead and begin when you're ready. We'll begin the background music on your cue," the mysterious coordinator said. Rory nodded and announced that he was ready.

Taking one last deep breath, the music began to play, very quietly, so as not to take away focus from his voice. He imagined himself as part of the band, one of the lead singers in Celtic Thunder. He pictured himself dressed in the outfit of a peasant, like in one of their tour videos where the youngest member of the group wooed a young woman as he sang to her. The difference was, instead of a young woman, he imagined it was Sam standing nearby, in awe of the little peasant boy singing his heart out for him.

In the video, the young boy walked around the stage, which was set up like a piece of a small farm, complete with a well and fence. Rory mimicked the movements, taking the microphone in hand without realizing it. By the time his imaginary performance was finished, his head snapped out of the fantasy and snapped back to reality, the sound of three people clapping before him. That's when he realized where he was and what he was doing.

"That was excellent, Rory," Kevin exclaimed. "You sing with a lot of feeling, and you put on an actual performance, not just standing still. It was wonderful."

Rory grinned from ear to ear. The judges liked his audition. Genuinely liked it. Kevin spoke with honest interest and praise and it made Rory feel amazing inside.

"Okay, well, we need to chat about your audition before the next person comes in, so go relax a bit, get a snack or something, and just take it easy until we're ready to announce the chosen ten," Kevin said. "And thank you again for that excellent display."

"Th-thank ye' very much," Rory stammered. He took a slight bow and strolled off the stage and down the aisle toward the door. Waiting for him was a very anxious looking Sam and Michelle.

"How'd you do?" Sam asked, taking the boy's hand.

"What a silly question, Sam. You know he did awesome," Michelle corrected him before Rory could respond. "How  _did_  you do?" she added, looking right at the teen.

Rory blushed slightly, always modest about compliments and accomplishments. "The judges said I did very well. I just kind of lost meself in me head, didn't think about anything and before I knew it, it was over."

"I told you you could do it!" Sam said, wrapping his arm around him. "So now what?"

Michelle raised an eyebrow and nodded her head toward the wall next to the doors. "That sign says we got until four when they start the announcing."

"Oh. That's a few hours away still. What are we gonna do until then?" Sam asked with a sigh.

"Nap, if you ask me. The poor kid looks exhausted all of a sudden," the woman observed. "All the excitement I bet."

Rory was leaning his head on Sam's shoulder, all signs of nervousness gone, replaced with tiredness. He hadn't allowed himself to be tired, had forced himself to stay fully awake and focused, but now that the performance was over, he could let himself relax. "I am kind o'tired," he admitted.

Sam thought a moment. "Well, I guess we can go sit in the truck for a while," he said.

"What am I supposed to do, sit in the flatbed?" Michelle questioned sarcastically. "We can sit in my car, more room. Come on."

The trio walked out of the school and found Michelle's car in the lot. It was a Dodge, a Neon, but it had more room than the truck had inside. Michelle sat in the front passenger seat, leaning the seat back so she could get comfortable. Sam sat in the back, Rory next to him, leaning over and resting his head in Sam's lap. He started stroking Rory's hair, sending the boy into slumber almost instantly. He leaned his head back as well, letting himself fade out just a bit as well.

-ooo-

Sam woke first, with plenty of time to rouse the other two and make it back into the school. The folder Rory had been given earlier had not only given him a performance time, but also a judgment time of five. They sat around idly waiting, people watching, observing the students who came out of the auditorium doors to try and get a hint on who may have gotten chosen. So far, every face they saw wore nothing but disappointment.

Five hit, and Rory was ushered back into the auditorium. The lights were lower this time, allowing Rory to see his judges better. Or rather, his judge. The other two were nowhere to be seen, Kevin the only one present.

"Welcome back, Rory. I'm not sure if I should tell you the good news, or the bad news first," the man said. Rory had wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in the beams of an oncoming Mack truck.

"Uh... I guess the bad news first. Get it out o'the way," Rory whispered softly, his hands sweating, his heart pounding, his stomach one giant knot. For a moment he thought he might pass out right there on the stage.

Kevin smiled. "If you insist. The bad news is that you aren't going to be able to hang out with your friends or family for two weeks," he stated, his mouth curling up on one side.

"What? Why not? What's - what do ye' mean?" Rory blurted out, suddenly quite worried. His mind started to race, but was quickly stopped when Kevin told him that he was now going to relay the good news.

"The good news, my friend, is that... well, I don't know how to tell you this really. Aww hell, Rory Flanagan, you are one of ten contenders for the Glee Club Project!" the man finished standing up and clapping.

Rory's jaw dropped. Had he heard the man correctly? Of course he did, why else would the man be smiling and clapping? "D-d-did ye' just say...? Did ye' say that-" the boy stammered.

"Yes, you heard me. You are one of the ten contenders. Congratulations," Kevin said once more. "Go ahead, scream or cheer, or whatever it is you wanna do, I know you're excited."

The Irish teen let out a cry of sheer joy, a sound that was as unfamiliar to himself as to anyone else he knew. Kevin laughed, pleased to see his new contender was so pleased with being selected. Kevin ushered the teen behind the stage, showing him where he needed to go for paperwork and instructions.

-ooo-

"My god, what's taking so long?" Sam complained. Rory had been in the room for almost half an hour, and had yet to return, or even text. "Did you see a bunch of other people in there, too? Were they taking them one on one?"

Michelle had taken a nail file out of her purse and was leaning against the wall, filing her nails, paying Sam no attention. "He sure has been gone a while, I wonder if he got in," she said, having not heard a word Sam had said.

"Maybe we should ask-" Sam started.

"Oh look, there he is!" Michelle exclaimed, standing up and tucking her file back into her purse. Rory was heading toward them with a large folder and an even larger envelope and package, failing miserably at hiding his excitement.

"Did you make it?" Sam asked, eyes wide.

"Let's go outside," Rory urged, wanting to torture his boyfriend just a few moments longer. It was already twilight outside, the air cold and a swift breeze flowing through. Michelle shivered in her skirt, moving her feet up and down to keep warm.

"Enough mystery, I'm freezing!" the woman said.

Rory smiled wide, his eyes lit up like bright beacons in the night. "I got in! I made it! I'm one of the ten!" he finally squealed. Everything he had in his arms fell to the ground as Sam launched himself at the teen, throwing his arms around him in the tightest hug he could muster.

"I'm so proud of you baby! I knew you would do it! I knew it!" He let go long enough to give Rory a long kiss, before Michelle interrupted with a cough.

"Ahem. Third party here, boys. Feeling left out," the woman said, tapping her foot. The boys giggled as Rory closed the distance between them and he planted a big kiss on Michelle's cheek and then hugged her. "Well, I wasn't expecting that, but now not feeling so left out," she laughed. "I'm so proud of you, honey. You're gonna win that competition and leave the rest of them out to dry."

Rory stooped down to the ground, gathering up the things he dropped. "What's in there?" Sam asked, nodding toward the package and envelope.

"The envelope has a shirt in it. The package has a hat, a wristband, and some sort of thing to wear around me neck so people know I'm with the project when we're at the hotel."

"Hotel?" Michelle and Sam asked in unison.

Rory nodded his head. "Yeah. Hotel. I 'ave to spend two weeks serc- sarc- surc- oh I forget the word," he stumbled.

"Sequestered?" Michelle offered.

"Yes, that's the word. The ten of us stay in a hotel when we aren't actually performing. There's all the details in me packet here," Rory answered.

"What about school?" Sam asked, cocking his head. "That's a lot of class to miss."

Apparently that issue was already addressed. "The school supplies me with me classwork so I don't get behind. We can look over the packet later. It has e'erything in it. Rules and things."

The three of them continued to talk on their way to their respective cars, agreeing to meet a few blocks down at the Ruby Tuesday restaurant for dinner. At dinner, Rory told them all about Kevin and the other coordinators he met backstage. He wasn't told who the other contenders were-it was supposed to be relatively low key until the night of the premiere. By the end of the meal, aside from the actual rules and regulations laid on in the packet, Michelle and Sam both knew as much about the competition as he did.

Sam and Rory bid Michelle good night before heading home themselves. "Thank ye' so much for coming. It means a lot, ye' know," the younger teen said to his 'cousin'.

"Oh of course, it was a blast! We need to hang out more, right Sam?" she replied, teasing the blonde haired man. "Just because we're a couple hours apart doesn't mean we can't-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Enough with the guilt already," Sam interrupted. He considered cracking a joke about Catholicism and their traditional guilt-laden values, knowing his cousin was a non-practicing Catholic, but he wasn't sure Rory would find the humor since he actually put stock in his faith.

Not ten minutes after they parted ways, the boys were on the road going back toward Lima. Rory stared out the window for several minutes, but quickly lost track of himself as he fell asleep.

Sam smiled as he glanced over at his slumbering boyfriend, slumped over in his seat. It had been a long day, a long, stressful day.  _He has so much riding on his shoulders, but he still kicked ass. I think I'd crack if I had that kind of pressure on me. He handles it all so well. He keeps a cool head, takes e'erything in stride. Hah! Listen to me! I even talk to myself in his accent. I guess that means you're in hardcore love, dude. As if I had doubts or something. How did I get so lucky? He's just so wonderful. SO perfect._

Sam's stream of random thoughts poured through his head as he reveled in the pride of his boyfriend. Rory cracked his eyes open as he started to drift back awake, but Sam simply put his arm around the boy, pulling him closer.

"Come on, just lean on me. I'm more comfortable than the door," the elder instructed. Rory did just that, laying his head against Sam's arm, closing his eyes and letting himself drift off again. The last words he remembered hearing before dreams took over were the words "…so proud of you… lucky… my boyfriend."

-ooo-

_Two Weeks Ago_

Will Schuester sat at his desk, grading midterms and nursing a cold cup of coffee. He had a headache, was more than ready to go home, but he had to finish these last few exams before break.

"Mr. Schuester?" came an unfamiliar, deep voice. Will looked up to see a man standing in the doorframe. He was tall, broad, and if it weren't for his friendly demeanor, he would be very intimidating. "May I interrupt you for a moment?"

Will stood up and offered out his hand to the man, who was dressed in a tweed suit, giving him the look of a salesman. "Sure, come on in. What can I do for you Mr….?"

The man shook Will's hand and then sat down. "Alfred Parker," he introduced himself. "I know you're a very busy man, Mr. Schuester, but I come here with a business proposition for you that I think you will find to be quite enticing."

Mr. Schue looked the man over, confused. "Business proposition? I'm a teacher, there isn't a whole lot to propose…"

Alfred Parker chuckled to himself and then smiled. "William, I'm from Dalton Academy. I know you are familiar with our musical performance group, the Warblers. In fact, one of our best performers goes to your school now. Blaine Anderson."

"Oh yeah, Blaine. He's a really great performer. We're lucky to have him. Very lucky."

"Yes, yes you are," Alfred said. "I know from the so called grape vine that your New Directions have been forced to disband, correct?" he asked, dodging any more pleasantries and going right for the purpose of his arrival.

Will hung his head. "Yeah. Lack of participation. We couldn't get twelve students, so Figgins shut it down. Perhaps for good," he said sadly.

"Well, let me get right to the point, here, Will. Dalton could use your help. We need an adult sponsor—a teacher—to head the Warblers. Our current teacher had an untimely death in his family and has been forced to relocate unexpectedly, leaving us without a sponsor. As you know, no sponsor means no competition," Alfred began, speaking coolly. "We need a man of your passion, William. We need someone who can come in and pick up the reigns. We think you're the right man for that job."

Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. A teacher from a rival school—a rival glee club—was coming to ask him to come lead their glee club. It was surreal. It was nothing like the New Directions, of course, but it would still be performing, and that was his true passion.

"I see I have your attention, William," Alfred said slyly. "The only catch though, is that to qualify you would need to be a teacher at Dalton. I know that's not particularly logical to just ask you to leave your job mid year, but what we would like to propose to you, is that you come on board with us at your current salary, increased by half. You would teach Spanish, as you do here, and then of course coach our Warblers."

"This is all so sudden, I mean I… I have to talk to my fiancé first, and… I mean we definitely could use the money, especially now, and I would love to teach glee again, but…" Will stammered all over himself as thoughts raced through his head. Leaving McKinley wasn't as simple as just going into a different office the next day. He had friends here—Emma, Shannon, even Sue—and more importantly, he had students he had built relationships with. It would be abandoning them all to just leave for Dalton.

"Oh we certainly want you to think on it, William. I'm leaving you my card. Think about it. Classes resume after the New Year. We'd love for you to resume them with us," Alfred said, standing up. He handed Will a business card with one hand, and shook his other hand, nodding and smiling. "I hope we hear from you."

Alfred left the office leaving Will standing there, a dumbfounded look on his face.  _Salary and a half. We need that money bad. With me not getting tenure either, yeah, we need it. Emma's secure here, but I'm not, and without glee club, there's one less reason to keep me here compared to other teachers they might need to cut for costs. Goddamned economy. But he said they_ need _me._ Me. _It could be like a fresh start I suppose. I guess I better see what Emma has to say before I think about it anymore._

-ooo-

Grim faces stared at each other in the lunchroom as Artie, Tina, Blaine, and Sugar sat at the table, reflecting on the week's events.

"I can't believe he just left like that," Tina sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the sounds erupting from her lips. "Three years and he just gives up like that!"

Artie scoffed. "I always knew it was a bad idea to trust teachers, but I thought he was the exception. It's downright depressing." Sugar ruffled his hair, leaning her chin on his shoulder.

"I could always get my daddy to pay him a higher salary if he comes back," the young rich woman offered cheerily. Her proposal was met with disdain, however.

"That's a terrible way to solve everything, buying away solutions to everything," Blaine muttered. "If that's what it took to bring him back, I don't know if I want him to come back. It's like being deserted because you aren't good enough, but suddenly money talks, and…" The senior trailed off, talking a word salad of disappointment.

Mitchell and Rory approached the table, the pair of them trying to look casual, but failing miserably. "What are you guys so happy about?" Artie asked, looking up at them as the pair sat down.

"I won," Rory stated. "I mean, I didn't win, I got through me audition and can move on to the big competition," he clarified. He looked around the table, hoping for enthusiasm, but receiving none.

"That's great, Rory. Really, I'm happy for you," Blaine said, trying to sound cheerful but not succeeding.

"We should all be proud of him," Mitchell scolded softly. "He worked hard, and now he's moving on to the real thing. He might help save our chances of making it into nationals. We should be happy."

Rory smiled at his friend. Mitchell, ever the loyal follower who had an obvious hero-worship of Rory, a boy who could be counted on for support when his other friends were barely making an effort to be excited.

"Well, yeah, we are and all, but without Mr. Schue, even if Rory won we couldn't go to nationals without a sponsor," Artie pointed out with a heavy sigh. Tina was too busy crying to say anything, and Blaine turned a deep crimson.

"You're right, Mitchell, we should be proud. I mean, we  _are_  proud, it's just hard to be happy when like Artie said, without Mr. Schue, we don't have a sponsor, so no club no matter what happens," Blaine explained, giving Rory an apologetic look.

"Wait, I'm confused," Rory began. "Even though Mr. Schuester isn't a teacher here anymore, can't he still sponsor the glee club if we got it goin' again?"

"No can do, Irish," Artie answered. "Gotta be a faculty member. A  _current_  faculty member."

" _Any_  faculty member?" Mitchell asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah,  _any_  faculty member, but they kind of need to know how to sing and coach and all that," the handicapable teen clarified. "I think that counts out Coach Beiste."

"I wasn't…" the ginger haired boy trailed off. Rory could see where his friend was going with this, however, and immediately came to his rescue.

The Irish teen cleared his throat. "I think he might 'ave been referring to Miss Pillsbury," he declared. "She's always supportive o' us, and she can definitely get help from Mr. Schue if she needs it." Mitchell looked over at Rory and gave a weak smile of appreciation.

"Oh. Well that makes sense," Blaine replied. "Pretty logical actually."

Tina stopped sobbing finally. "But what if she says she won't do it? That's a lot of work, and Miss Pillsbury has her hands full already. Did you see the three boxes of pamphlets in her office? She's going crazy making those things."

Rory beamed. "I learned enough about Miss Pillsbury in the short time I've been at the school, and I 'ave no doubt she would do it if we asked her. She couldn't say no if she wanted to."

"She really wouldn't say no if he won, too. I mean, how could she? She wouldn't want to be responsible for stopping us from winning," Sugar added.

"I don't want her to feel like she has no choice, I want her to  _want_  to do it. But I think that won't be a problem. I think if we really 'ave this chance, she'll do what she can to help us," Rory said. "For now, let's not worry about it too much. Let's just relax. The competition starts January fourteenth."

"That isn't that far when you think about it," Tina commented, finally having gotten herself back under control. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

Rory relayed to the rest of the group the particulars he was allowed to share. He'd be gone two weeks, would be getting his schoolwork to do while he was away, would be sequestered, and he had no idea who else was competing against him. Any other questions they had, he either had no answer to, or wasn't allowed to divulge the information.

As they were packing up to leave lunch for the next class, Rory hung back a moment to talk to Blaine.

"Are ye' okay? I 'aven't gotten to talk to ye' much, and I know Kurt not coming home was really bugging you," the younger teen asked. Blaine hadn't even gotten out of his seat yet, but simply toyed with his napkin.

"I'll be okay. I was just really disappointed. I'm like the kid who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas but everyone else did," the bowtied boy replied, not looking up. Rory walked behind him and bent down, giving him a hug.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I know how it feels. When me and Sam were apart o'er the summer, it was awful. And that was a shorter time than ye' and Kurt 'ave been apart for so far, so I know ye'r hurting bad." Rory pulled out the chair next to Blaine and sat back down. He was going to be late to class, but he could always claim he was in the restroom. He placed his hands on top of Blaine's, forcing him to stop playing with the napkin.

Blaine looked up at his friend, their eyes meeting. Rory had such kindness in his eyes. Not feigned kindness, either, but the genuine kind. His bright blue irises were beautiful to gaze into—no wonder Sam could get lost so easily there—but if only the boy knew just how much it was killing Blaine to stare into him and not act on the insane feelings bubbling up inside of him.

_Stop it. He's just being a friend. Of course he cares that I'm upset. He knows Kurt means a lot to me. Kurt. Kurt. That's what this is all about. Kurt. The only reason I feel anything at all for Rory is because of Kurt. Because he reminds me of Kurt. Because I miss Kurt. I don't feel anything for Rory. No, not that kind of way. Nope. I'm just lonely, and projecting onto him, that's what they say in the movies, right? Kurt is my boyfriend and I love him._

Blaine continued to ramble on in his own head, forcing himself to look away from Rory's face and paste on a smile, anything to ease his friend so he would go away. Blaine absentmindedly agreed to a brainstorming session over the weekend, knowing that he had vowed to spend less time around Rory, but he was so lonely, so desperate for some attention from someone, anyone, that he let himself say 'sure'.

-ooo-

As soon as classes let out, Rory hotfooted it to the guidance office to see Miss Pillsbury. She was just opening up another box of pamphlets she had ordered when he knocked on the door.

"Oh, hi Rory! Nice to see you. I don't have much time to talk though, I have a meeting to go to," she greeted him with a smile.

"That's okay, ma'am. I just came by to ask ye' if ye' would tell Mr. Schuester that we're all gonna miss him a lot, and that we still aren't givin' up on the glee club," he said, his eyes roving over the stacks of brochures on her desk.

Emma gave him a sympathetic grin. "I know it isn't easy on you guys, him just leaving like this," she sighed. It wasn't exactly easy on her, either. She and Will had argued about it for days, but ultimately it came down to a need for the extra money, and the fact that with the closing of the glee club, he had been increasingly unhappy, that they finally decided he should take the position at Dalton. "I'll tell him you came by, though. He'll be pleased to know you guys cared so much."

The teen nodded. "Thank ye', Miss Pillsbury. I also wanted to ask ye' when a good time would be that we can meet, and talk about me checkbook again."

Emma's eyes lit up. "Oh! That's right, we need to make an appointment! I have time on Monday if you like," she offered. Smiling like an excited schoolgirl, she dug around in the box she was unpacking and pulled out a handful of brochures. She took two and handed them to the student, face up. "I was inspired by our meeting last time and had these made up. Go ahead and take one for you and Sam. You can look over them this weekend and we can go over your check book on Monday and I'll answer any questions you have."

Rory took the papers from her and gave a quick glance before putting them away in his messenger bag. "Thank ye' a lot Miss Pillsbury."

"Of course," she replied. "So I'll see you Monday, during study hall?"

Rory nodded politely. "I'll see ye' then. 'Ave a good weekend ma'am."

"Thank you. Say hello to Sam for me." She gave him a parting smile and a wave as the teen sauntered back out to the hallway and toward the exit doors. Emma felt pangs of guilt wash over her as she knew exactly what she was going to do that night-she would tell Will the boy had stopped by, but she wouldn't mention anything about glee club. She didn't want him to have more struggles with his decision than he already was. All he needed to know was that his students had stopped by to wish him good luck.

-ooo-

Saturday morning, Sam had to go in to the station for a few hours to help unloading the trucks for a new shipment of equipment coming in. He left around nine, leaving Rory just barely waking up as he kissed him goodbye and ran out the door. When Rory finally got up and showered, he sent Blaine a text message, asking when he was going to come over.

Arriving around noon, Blaine carried with him two personal pan pizzas for lunch. After eating, they decided to watch a movie and then get started on brainstorming various song selections that Rory may need to have on hand for the competition.

Rory had been given a list of various themes that he may be asked to prepare songs for. It was advised that participants at least have some songs selected for each theme 'just in case' and so that more time could be spent practicing, and less time hunting for a selection when it came to rehearsals and performances. With that in mind, he and Blaine sat on the couch, the list on the coffee table in front of them, their computers on their laps with their eyes searching for good ideas.

They had been throwing ideas back and forth for the better part of an hour, but it was quickly becoming tiring. Blaine closed the lid on his laptop and set it on the coffee table, squeezing his eyes shut a moment.

"My eyes need a break. All the titles are starting to run together," Blaine complained with a chuckle.

"I know. It's giving me a wee headache I think," Rory agreed. He set his own laptop on the table, leaving the lid up. He leaned back and stretched, yawning and closing his eyes. He hadn't had time to drift off to sleep when he felt Blaine shifting in his seat. Rory opened his eyes to find Blaine sitting very close to him, much closer than he was before, his knees pointed toward Rory in a way that was flirtatious.

Had it been anyone else, Rory would have felt alarmed at the intimate positioning, but since it was only Blaine, someone he trusted very much, he thought nothing of it. Knowing how lonely Blaine had been, it was obvious he just needed some physical closeness. Nothing underhanded, just a need to feel someone else's physical form. Blaine would never do anything to risk their friendship, and surely would never do anything to compromise his relationship with Kurt. Blaine was his best friend, next to Sam of course, so Rory thought nothing of it when Blaine put his hand on his knee. He didn't start to think anything was wrong until he opened his eyes and Blaine's face was so very close to his own, Blaine's glossy lips pressing firmly against Rory's, the slight quiver of the senior's tongue pressing forward, asking for entry. Rory slowly parted his lips...

 


	40. Episode 40: Cracked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: "Oh no he didn't!" Oh yes, I did. :) Read on and see just what happens, I know the cliffhanger is killing you! The last paragraph of the previous chapter is in the recap, just to refresh your agonizing memory  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45**

**Recap:**  Had it been anyone else, Rory would have felt alarmed at the intimate positioning, but since it was only Blaine, someone he trusted very much, he thought nothing of it. Knowing how lonely Blaine had been, it was obvious he just needed some physical closeness. Nothing underhanded, just a need to feel someone else's physical form. Blaine would never do anything to risk their friendship, and surely would never do anything to compromise his relationship with Kurt. Blaine was his best friend, next to Sam of course, so Rory thought nothing of it when Blaine put his hand on his knee. He didn't start to think anything was wrong until he opened his eyes and Blaine's face was so very close to his own, Blaine's glossy lips pressing firmly against Rory's, the slight quiver of the senior's tongue pressing forward, asking for entry. Rory slowly parted his lips... and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 40: Cracked**

Rory slowly parted his lips, not in an effort to allow Blaine's tongue additional access, but in surprise. He couldn't believe what was happening. His best friend was kissing him, and his hands were...

Blaine still had one hand on Rory's knee, but the other had made its way to Rory's side, right under the hem of his shirt. Skin wasn't touching skin yet, but if either boy moved to the side...

Rory began to tremble. He jerked backwards just enough for Blaine to snap out of whatever insanity he was in at the moment. Blaine was shaking like a leaf in the wind. His entire body suddenly felt hot and then cold. He could actually  _feel_  his skin go pale, sense the sweat on his forehead, his heartbeat accelerate.

Blaine's body went into automatic-mode. He leapt up off the couch, backing away as if afraid. Finally looking away from his friend, he reached out and snatched up his laptop, stuffed it into his backpack, and turned to flee.

"Blaine! Wait, don't go, we can talk about this!" Rory called behind him. He could already hear his friend sniffling and sobbing, the door falling shut behind him. Rory's first inclination was to get up and chase after him, but he remembered how the year before, he had been upset with Sam and the more anyone tried to find him, the quicker he was to run away, so for all he knew, Blaine could be the same. If he tried to run after him, Blaine might just run faster. At the same time, what if Blaine  _needed_  to be chased after. What if he  _needed_  someone to make him stop running and calm down? He was torn. He picked up his cell phone and quickly selected Blaine's number.

"Damn," he uttered as he heard the vibrating of Blaine's phone on the table. That's when he noticed the keys as well. Good, Blaine would have to come back, so he would simply wait for him.

Blaine wasn't going anywhere. He reached the bottom of the stairs and jogged toward his SUV, tears streaming down his red cheeks, choking on his own cries. It was when he went to open the door that he realized he had left his keys in the apartment. In his haste, he had left them sitting on the coffee table, right next to the list of song themes.

_I can't go back up there. Not now. I just need to get out of here. But I need my keys. I have to have my keys. Maybe I can text him and ask him to just toss them down?_  Blaine felt even more foolish as he realized that sending Rory a message wasn't an option either. He had left his phone upstairs as well, right next to his keys. There was no avoiding it. He was going to have to go back up to the apartment to get his keys and his phone, and Rory would want to talk about it, and the last thing Blaine wanted to do was talk about anything.

_I'm a cheater. I'm a goddamned cheater. I made Rory a cheater. No, no, no. Rory isn't a cheater. He's a cheater if he wanted to do it. He didn't know I was gonna do that, nothing is his fault. Sam can't be upset with him. Just me. It's all_ my _fault. Sam. Oh crap, what's gonna happen when Rory tells Sam I kissed him? I didn't even mean to, it just kind of happened, and... It sounds like bullshit even to myself. What about Kurt? That's even more important. I just kissed another guy. A friend. I don't have an excuse for that. I'm_ with _Kurt. We're supposed to be together, we're 'Klaine'. I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come here. I knew things were getting worse and worse and-_

"Hey Blaine!" a familiar voice interrupted, a strong arm snaking around his shoulder. "Just leaving?"

"Oh uh, yeah, hi Sam. Yeah, I gotta go. Stuff to do. I just uh-" Blaine stuttered, trying to keep himself composed.

"Having one of those tough days, huh? Missing Kurt real bad and all. Your face is all flushed and I could hear you sniffling when I walked up," Sam said, pulling Blaine into a hug. The brunette went rigid, his body still shaking, now from fear. Fear about what Sam would say or do when he found out.

"I uh, I left my keys upstairs by accident. Could you toss them down to me when you get up there?" Blaine asked, hoping that Sam would be bright enough to send his phone down as well.

Sam huffed. "Oh just come on up." He turned around and started toward the stairs, Blaine reluctantly following him. Sam was saying something, but Blaine was in a state of shock and fear, Sam's words turning into mush by the time they hit his ears.

It felt very odd to be walking right back into the apartment after having run out so urgently. He started to wonder why Rory hadn't chased after him. Was Rory angry with him? Disgusted?

"Sammy! Blaine!?" Rory exclaimed upon seeing first his boyfriend walk into the living room, and then Blaine, looking very upset. The youngest teen got off of the couch, hugged his boyfriend, and then stood back, looking from Sam, to Blaine, and back to Sam.

"Blaine are ye' okay? Ye' left in such a hurry, ye' forgot ye'r keys and ye'r phone," Rory asked, but Blaine didn't answer. He just stared downward, tears welling up in his eyes again.

Sam turned his gaze from the whimpering teenager back to his boyfriend. 'What's wrong?' he mouthed. Rory's hesitation to reply unnerved Sam slightly, the feeling in the room awkward and strained. Something just felt 'off'.

"Guys, what's going on?" Sam asked sternly. The look on Rory's face worried him. It was the look of sympathy, of worry. Blaine wouldn't look at either one of them and was trembling. "Someone? Anyone? You two have a fight or something?"

"Not exactly," Rory said softly, hoping that Blaine would say something, and fast. He didn't like the idea of 'telling on' Blaine like some sort of snitch, but he wasn't going to lie to Sam, either.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam returned. "What-"

"Sam?" Blaine piped up nervously. The older teen stopped talking midsentence and looked at Blaine. "I... I..." he finally looked up at Sam, his eyes filled with terror and sorrow. "I'm really sorry. It's not his fault, I swear. Please don't be upset with Rory."

Sam's face went grim and his head felt light. He didn't like the way this was sounding, not one bit. " _What_  isn't his fault?" he growled.

Blaine swallowed the last bit of courage he had and finally blurted it out. "Sam, I'm sorry, I kissed Rory. I didn't mean to but I did."

The words cut into Sam's chest like a hot knife. He stared at Blaine, his normally cool green eyes having gone to a cold, cruel shade. No, not cruel- angry. Angry and hurt. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rory nod in agreement with Blaine's confession.

Losing control of himself, Sam flexed the muscles in his body, pulling his right arm back and then firing it forward like a cannon. Instead of the shout of his betraying friend, he heard a loud grunt and a cry of pain that sounded very much like Rory, his arm having not gone at all in the direction it was supposed to.

Rory saw it before it could happen-Sam was going in for the kill on Blaine, and he knew right then that if Sam succeeded in hitting their friend, that things were going to end up much worse than they already were. Trying to avoid a crisis, Rory threw himself forward to try and grab Sam's fist before he had time to pull back and punch forward, but was just a little too late and a little too off in his movement because he ended up with Sam's fist slamming into his shoulder, and then losing his balance and falling into the floor.

"Rory!" Sam cried, dropping to the floor at his boyfriend's side. "Fuck! I didn't mean to! Oh fuck, are you okay!?"

Blaine started to ask if Rory was alright, but at the sound of his voice, Sam flared up. He turned his neck and looked hard at Blaine. "You've caused enough problems for one day. Get out," he said harshly. Blaine opened his mouth to apologize but Sam wouldn't let him. "I said get out!" he shouted.

Blaine didn't hesitate. He had never heard Sam sound so furious before, and the boom of the blonde's voice sent chills down his spine. He quickly grabbed his keys and phone off of the table and fled the scene, the door slamming shut behind him.

-ooo-

Blaine ran to his SUV as fast as he could, the weight of his backpack slamming into his shoulder blades and lower spine with each stride. When he made it, he fumbled with his keys to get the door open, tossed in his pack, and climbed in, pulling the door and locking it. He knew Sam wasn't hot on his heels; he knew Sam wasn't coming after him at all. Sam was going to be tending to Rory.

Rory.  _Oh god, what did I do? Sam was going to hit me, and Rory jumped in the way. Now he's hurt. Because of_ me _, because of_ my _loneliness,_ my _problems. I fucked up so bad. So, so bad. I can't fix this. I just made it worse. Now Sam hates me. Rory hates me. Kurt will hate me when he finds out. I can't keep it from him. I have to tell him._

Blaine was sobbing again, harder than he had before. In the span of fifteen minutes he had destroyed his closest friendship, the only thing he really had left to hold onto in Kurt's absence, and in the process he even tainted what was between himself and his boyfriend. It wasn't like he meant to kiss Rory. All he wanted was some affection, and all he could think about was Kurt, and how much Rory reminded him of Kurt, and he let his head get lost and he made a mistake that was costing him everything.

The senior slammed his fist into the center of the steering column, yelling out in frustration. He hit it several more times until his hand hurt, and then he just leaned his head against the wheel and cried. He wouldn't be able to drive until he got himself under control, and he knew he had no chance of that happening if he didn't just let it out.

-ooo-

"Oh my God, Rory I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hit you, I-" Sam cried, his cheeks already stained with hot tears. He was still crouched down in the floor, searching Rory's face for any sort of reaction.

Rory finally shoved Sam off of him and got up, then slumped down onto the couch, rubbing his shoulder. Sam stood up, watching him, waiting for him to say something.

"Rory?"

"Fuck, Sam! Did ye' really need to try and hit him!?" Rory barked angrily.

"It was a reaction! I mean damn, the dude just kissed my boyfriend, I'm not exactly cool with that!" Sam replied just as angrily. "I didn't mean to hit  _you_  though. I would never, ever, never ever purposely hit you," his voice changed dramatically to something much more soothing as he sat down next to his boyfriend, wrapping his arm around him.

Rory sighed heavily. "That could 'ave been me face ye' know," he hissed. "I couldn't let ye' do it though. I couldn't let ye' hit him. Not a friend."

Sam swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force back the tears again. "Rory, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way, I just… I felt so betrayed, so hurt."

Still rubbing his aching shoulder, Rory cocked his head and looked over at his boyfriend. "Even still, hitting ye'r friend isn't the right thing to do. Even if ye'r angry with them, ye' don't hit them. Ye' work it out," he said sullenly.

Sam hung his head. "I know. I messed up. But I just… I've been cheated on before. Twice. You don't know how bad that hurts. I hope you  _never_  know how much it hurts."

"Ye' hope?" Rory asked, raising an eyebrow. "Ye' hope me arse. I better not e'er know, or else ye'r in big trouble Sam Evans."

Both boys couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "I'm not very good at sounding threatening, am I?" Rory asked sheepishly.

Sam shook his head. "No. You're about as ferocious as a box of kittens. I guess I make up for it." He pulled Rory into a full hug and kissed his forehead. "I'm so sorry. You can hit me back if you want to."

Rory pulled back and scrunched up his face, pretending to consider the offer. Breaking the tension, he playfully punched Sam in the shoulder as well, just hard enough to make Sam grunt. "Okay, we're even I guess. But if ye' e'er lay a hand on me like that, I'll-"

"I'll hand you the gun myself. I swear, I will  _never_  hit you. I refuse to become a Lifetime movie," Sam vowed. "We need to talk about this, though."

The Irishman nodded. "Yes. I know. But first I need some ice. Ye' really knocked me a good one. Ye'r seriously lucky it wasn't me face, because can ye' imagine what people would think about us then? It'd be horrible."

Sam's face flushed in humiliation. He knew he should feel bad about the accident, but he really needed Rory to stop laying on the guilt. It was only adding to the despair he was feeling over the entire situation. "I'll get it. Just sit here a sec," the blonde instructed. He got up and went to the kitchen, fishing out the aluminum foil from the cabinet. He took out some ice from the freezer, placed it on the foil, and wrapped it up, then wrapped that up in a small towel.

"Sorry, we don't have any plastic bags, so I uh, I put it in tin foil. It's cold just the same," Sam apologized. "Take off your shirt so I can see," he added, sitting back down on the couch.

Rory lifted the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. A bruise was already forming on his shoulder, directly over the small scar that had been left from the knife wound the year before. Sam grimaced when he saw it.

_I can't believe I did that to him. Even by accident. Fuck. It looks awful._ Tears streamed down Sam's cheeks again as he pressed the cold pack against the tender muscle, knowing full well that it was too late—the bruise was there and would remain until it was ready to dissipate on its own.

"Tell me what happened. Please, tell me," Sam begged. He needed to know. He needed to know for sure that Rory was completely innocent. That it was all Blaine. He knew in his heart that Rory couldn't possibly have even thought about kissing another guy, but his insecurities begged him to hear it from the teen's own mouth,

"We were sitting here on the couch, working on song selections, and we got tired, so we were both stretching out, and suddenly I open me eyes to find him so close to me face, and then he was kissing me," Rory explained. He didn't find it necessary to relay exactly how intimate Blaine had been with his hands. It wasn't going to help the situation any, and it hadn't gotten too far out of hand. Blaine never reached for his crotch, or slid his hand up Rory's shirt. He shuddered at the thought, curious as to just how far Blaine would have taken things had he not snapped out of whatever daze Blaine was in.

Sam thought a moment. "So you didn't encourage it at all, right? I mean, you pushed him back right away, right?"

"I promise, Sammy. As soon as I felt his lips on mine, I jerked back. I was shocked. I couldn't be mad. I was too surprised to be mad. Once I moved, I think it hit him what he was doing, and it scared him. Ye' should 'ave seen how fast he ran out o' here. He didn't even want to talk about it. He just ran off. Forgot his keys and phone he was in such a rush," Rory went on.

"I feel a little better, I guess. I mean, knowing you were totally innocent and all," Sam admitted. He looked up and noticed the glare on Rory's face. "I didn't mean that I thought you would cheat, I just meant it's nice to hear the words." Again he had messed up, or so he thought.

"I know what ye' meant," the young teen said simply. They were both silent for several minutes before Sam finally spoke.

"I want you to stay away from him," the elder teen declared firmly. "I can't trust him. We'll make some other arrangements for you to get to work and stuff, but I don't want him anywhere near you."

Rory sighed. He understood where Sam was coming from, he understood that Sam was only worried, and hurt. For the time being he would have to concede to Sam's request, even if he thought it was irrational.

"Sam, I don't... I don't think it's the best idea to desert him like this," Rory finally confessed, cautiously looking at Sam's face. "Don't ye' think he needs friends right now?"

Sam scoffed. "Just because he's lonely and needs friends doesn't give him a right to go kissing other people's boyfriends. Especially when he has one of his own."

"It was a mistake, Sam. I'm just as shocked by it as ye', but I know he didn't mean any harm. His head wasn't on right at the moment," Rory argued. Sam gave him a stern, fierce look.

"No. Just no. Stay away from him," Sam said coldly. Rory was losing his patience, fidgeting in his seat. He snatched the ice pack out of Sam's hand and re-applied it with his own hand. "Hey, don't get pissed at me because he was the one who fucked up."

The Irishman huffed loudly. "Why can't we just talk about this? The three o' us, just sit down and talk it out? We're friends, we shouldn't be so angry and mean!"

"Stay away from him, Rory. End of discussion," Sam finally said, raising his voice yet maintaining a semblance of control. He got up off of the couch and walked into the bedroom, rustling through the closet to find casual clothes to change into.

Rory stayed on the couch, bending over so his head was in his hands, leaning on his knees, the ice pack having fallen into his lap. Tears streamed down his face as he inwardly cursed Blaine for kissing him, and chided Sam for not trying to be more understanding for a very close friend.

_God, Blaine, why did ye' 'ave to go and do something so stupid? I know ye' didn't mean it, but jeez. Wasn't it bad enough without Kurt here? Now he's really alone. Stupid, stupid Blaine! What the hell would I 'ave done if he touched me? More than he did. Oh God, I hadn't thought o' that. What would I 'ave done if he let his hands get too adventurous? Would I 'ave freaked out? I wouldn't 'ave hit him, I know that. Kinda scary Sam has that violent streak in him. Real scary. I don't like it._

The more Rory talked to himself, the more he wanted his head to shut up. He was torn between being angry with Blaine, and trying to be sympathetic with him. To make it worse, he was irritated with Sam not only for hitting him, but also for being so rigid about not being around Blaine at all.

After bickering back and forth with himself for a good ten minutes, Rory realized his thigh was rather cold, and slightly damp. The ice was melting and soaking through the towel, leaving a large wet spot on his shorts. Shivering, he picked up the small package and took it to the kitchen, dumping it in the sink. He threw away the tin foil and left the towel crumpled up in the sink to get later. He took a glass out of the cabinet, put some ice in it, and poured himself some fruit juice. He took a large swig of the drink before heading back to the living room to fetch his shirt.

Rory pulled his shirt over his head and pressed his fingers against his shoulder, testing to see just how much he hurt. He was about to sit back down on the couch and turn on the TV to distract himself from the situation when he could hear a faint whimpering, a couple of sniffles, and a cough. He turned toward the bedroom, knowing it was Sam and that he was crying.

"Sam?" Rory called out softly as he entered their bedroom. Sam was sitting on the bed in a pair of sweat pants, his laptop over his legs, and sniffling. He noticed Rory come in and quickly shifted his eyes back toward the screen. Rory set the glass of juice down on the nightstand and sat down next to Sam, wrapping his arm around Sam's waist, then rested his chin on his shoulder, looking up at the man's face.

Sam sniffled again, brought his hand up to wipe his eyes, which were bloodshot red. Rory lifted his head back up and gently kissed Sam on the lips. Sam expected to taste Blaine's lip-gloss, or some other notable 'flavor' left on his boyfriend, but he didn't. Instead it was just Rory, with a hint of fruit punch flavoring his mouth.

They sat in silence for several minutes while Rory just watched Sam mess about on his computer, checking his Facebook, and then going to one of his favorite message boards where guitar players posted just about anything relating to guitars and music. He could tell, however, that Sam wasn't really reading any of the posts, but rather just scrolling through them. There was no way Sam could concentrate on anything right now, let alone a message board.

"Sam? Are ye' gonna be okay?" Rory finally asked, sure that Sam had calmed down enough to not snap at him.

"I guess," Sam replied, sighing. Rory started stroking his hair, trying to soothe him. "You just don't know what it feels like when someone you love is taken away from you." He closed his eyes, holding back the flood of emotions that were starting to come back.

"Sammy... nobody is taking me away from ye'. I mean, I could 'ave died and still ended up back in ye'r arms, ye' think something like a little kiss is gonna take me away?" Rory said playfully.

The elder teen managed a chuckle. "It's hard to explain. It just hurts knowing someone else was trying to be with you. Even by accident. Like I said, Quinn and Santana both cheated on me, and Quinn I thought was the love of my life. Figured out that she was cheating on me with Finn. Tore me up."

Rory leaned his head against Sam, still stroking his hair. "How did ye' figure it out?"

"Heh, Finn had a kissing booth on V-day, and caught mono from someone, and then Quinn miraculously caught it the same day. All the pieces started to fit together and I confronted her about it, and the truth came out. Santana didn't even really break up with me, she just started screwing Karofsky and everybody knew it, and she never denied it, and we just weren't together anymore." Sam sounded on the verge of tears again, more when he was discussing Quinn than Santana. It explained why Quinn had been so eager to get Sam back, however, and it didn't surprise Rory one bit that Santana would do that to him. Santana wouldn't know how to treat another human being if someone laid out step-by-step instructions for her.

"Well, Sam Evans, I, Rory Flanagan, will ne'er, e'er cheat on ye' so long as I live. I promise ye' that," the Irish teen vowed. Sam's mouth started to turn up in a smile upon hearing that. Rory reached for the laptop and set it aside, then pulled Sam into his arms and the pair laid back on the bed, Rory holding onto him, nuzzling his head against Sam's chest.

"Just don't break my heart, Rory. I don't think I could take it. I really don't," Sam choked.

"Not in me nature. I love ye' too much to e'er do that," Rory assured him. Sam was about to say something in reply, but Rory placed his finger on the chapped lips of his boyfriend. "Shh, quiet time now," he whispered, snuggling closer with him. Sam didn't argue, instead he just took comfort in Rory's words and let himself be cuddled.

-ooo-

By Sunday, things had returned to a fairly normal state. Sam woke up first, cooked breakfast for the two of them, and then woke his sleeping prince. There was no mention of Blaine at all until later in the afternoon, when Sam suggested that Rory get hold of Tina and see if she would be willing to give him a ride from school to work in the afternoons. He reminded Rory to offer her gas money, even though they both knew she wouldn't accept it.

Rory sent her a text message asking if he could bum rides from her after school for a while, and of course she immediately asked what happened with Blaine. The advantage of texting was that he could think out his response, and at Sam's recommendation, he simply told her they had an argument and needed time away from each other. She seemed to accept the explanation and gladly agreed to help him out, turning down the gas money of course.

Blaine wasn't brought up again the rest of the day, and Rory figured if Sam wasn't going to broach the subject, neither would he. After Sam's intimate confessions about his past relationships, the last thing he wanted to do was dredge up more bad memories for his boyfriend.

Around four, Rory set up a Skype session with his family—something they hadn't done in a while. He wanted to tell them all about moving forward in the contest, as well as get a chance just to see them.

Excited at the chance to speak to his brothers, Seamus quickly hijacked the computer on his end. "Hey Rory! Hi Sam! I miss ye' two so much!"

"Hey Seamus!" Sam greeted. "We miss you, too. Worked on any new models lately?"

"Oh yeah! Mammy and Pap gave me two o' them for Christmas! I started one already, but it's real hard! It has way more parts for the engine, this one!" the boy exclaimed. "I'd show it to ye', but it's down in the garage and Mammy won't let me bring it up until it's done," he went on. Sam giggled at the boy's enthusiasm, nudging Rory as a reminder to show some interest.

"Come on, Mam, please let him show us? Just for a minute?" Rory pleaded. Seamus' eyes lit up at the notion that his brother even cared, let alone asked their mother to bend the rules for a minute. When she finally conceded, the excited kid ran off to grab his work in progress.

While Seamus was gone, Pap quickly took over to speak in a lower voice. "Ye' don't know how much Seamus really misses ye' boys. He's been goin' crazy, he has. He even has cried a few times, but don't tell him I told ye' or he'd 'ave a right good tantrum," Pap said.

"Aww, I feel so bad. I hate that he's so upset," Rory admitted.

"Maybe he could come visit us for a week when it gets warmer outside," Sam blurted out, regretting his words as soon as he said them, only because he hadn't even discussed the idea with Rory, let alone asked if he could invite the boy, but to his surprise and delight, Rory was actually enthusiastic about it.

"Yeah, why not, Pap? The theme parks open in April, why can't Seamus come visit for a week around then?" Rory asked. "He'd 'ave a great time, don't ye' think? He didn't exactly get to 'ave fun last time he was here. Sam and I could show him around, let him stay with us and just get to experience America a little bit."

Pap and Mam exchanged looks with each other. "Rory, honey, ye'r da and I need to 'ave a chance to talk about that. It's a little expensive. We'll talk it o'er, how about that?" his mother asked.

"Okay. But please think about it. I think he'd 'ave so much fun. We'd take really good care o' him, and Mr. and Mrs. Evans are close by and could help if anything really came up," Rory added.

"We'll definitely give it some thought, me son. It's a generous offer ye' make, so maybe we can work something out," Pap replied with an almost conspiratorial grin. Right then, Seamus popped back into the frame, holding onto what he had completed of his model.

Seamus held it up close to the camera so they could see, pointing at the engine he was working on and the parts of the body he had already finished.

"Impressive, Seam," Sam said. "Can't wait to see the finished thing." The kid beamed, so happy that he impressed his honorary sibling.

They spent the rest of the session telling the three Flanagans all about Rory's audition and about the Glee Club Project competition. His mother's only concern was that he would get behind in his classes but she let up as soon as he assured her he would still be getting his schoolwork. His father insisted they record the broadcasts for them, since the TV portion wouldn't be available all the way in Ireland.

After about an hour, they called it quits for the night, both teens confident that Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan would try their best to send Seamus to America for a visit.

"Sorry I just kind of shouted that out," Sam apologized. "I didn't think about it, the words just kind of popped out."

"No, I'm glad ye' thought about that. I'd love to see me brother. I think he'd 'ave so much fun. We could take him to the water park, and the rollercoaster park where we went for ye'r birthday last year. Maybe to the aquarium, too," Rory replied, smiling. He hugged Sam tight, a gesture that reassured Sam that Rory wasn't upset with his invitation.

"Maybe if they saw how well you took care of your brother, then they'd see just how responsible you are, too. You know, just to see how much you've grown being on your own and all," Sam said.  _And then they might let you stay here through the summer, too,_ he added in his head.

They stayed up a while longer, watching old cartoons until they were both tired and ready for bed. They fell asleep in their bed spooning, Sam grinding his erection into Rory's backside a few times before letting up and remaining satisfied with cuddling.

-ooo-

Monday was the most awkward day Rory had experienced since first arriving at McKinley the year before. His general morning routine had been to stop at his locker, stop by Blaine's locker to say hello, and they would walk to their homeroom classes, which were right next to each other. Later they would end up walking to lunch together and then at the end of the day, meet by Rory's locker so they could go out to the parking lot and Blaine could give him a ride to work.

None of that happened. Rory went from his locker straight to homeroom, a sad look on his face as he passed by Blaine's classroom and caught a glimpse of the senior sitting at his desk, head down, a look of pure sorrow painted across his face. Rory wanted to go in and talk to him, tell him he was upset but still wanted to be friends, but he knew Sam would be angry with him if he found out he had talked to Blaine.

Rory walked to lunch alone, meeting his friends at their usual table in the cafeteria-everyone except for Blaine. "Okay, spill it Flanagan," Artie said as he sat down.

"Spill what? I 'ave a sandwich and chips, there's nothing to spill," Rory replied innocently. For once, he was familiar with the American expression, but he hoped that his feigned misunderstanding would be enough to get Artie to let it go. No such luck.

"Not your food," Artie replied smartly. "You and Blaine."

The table was silent as Rory contemplated what to say. He stalled. "What do ye' mean? Nothing's going on."

Artie rolled his eyes. "Don't play with us, Irish, we know something's up. I asked Tina if she wanted to work on our science project after school and she said she had to drop you off at work first, and everyone at this table knows Blaine gives you rides everywhere. And that look on his face all day? Not sitting with us at lunch?"

Rory gulped. He decided to stick with what Sam had told him to tell Tina. "We just had an argument, that's all. We'll get o'er it."

"If you need rides Rory, I can always have one of my daddy's chauffer's take you places. It's no trouble at all," Sugar offered, smiling. It was obvious that despite the fact she was happily with Artie, she still had an attraction to the young Irish teen.

"No, thank ye' Sugar," Rory replied. "Guys, really, we just had an argument and e'erything will be fine soon."

"Maybe we should just drop it," Tina suggested. "We don't want to make anything worse, right?" Artie didn't say anything else, just smirked and returned to eating his lunch. Rory mouthed a 'thank you' to Tina, who smiled in acknowledgement. The entire time, Mitchell had just sat in silence, observing. He never got in the middle of anything, opting instead to just stay out of it and listen. If Rory wanted him to know anything, he'd tell him when he was ready.

Later, as Rory passed by Blaine's locker in the hall, he gave the boy a friendly smile and a slight wave, but Blaine barely smiled back and turned away, his face flushing, most likely in embarrassment. Rory's heart sank-he hated any kind of rift between friends, especially if it could be talked out.

-ooo-

Rory sat in Miss Pillsbury's office, waiting patiently as the woman browsed through his checkbook again. Along with her new pamphlets, she had ordered a box of checkbook registers for students as well. She was very big on providing her students with whatever they needed to accomplish their goals, hence her large collection of condoms for her safe sex brochures and miniature bottles of Purell hand sanitizer for her rather lengthy handout on germs. She opened a fresh register and handed it to Rory, along with a pen.

"We're going to start fresh, I think, to make this easier," she began, looking over the checkbook and the printouts of his account activity that he had brought. She looked over the few receipts that he had, putting the ones that had cleared in the shredder under her desk, marking them off on the printout.

"Rory? Rory, are you okay?" she asked, noticing that her student had drifted off into another world as she explained the importance of receipt retention.

Rory returned his attention to the guidance counselor, apologizing for his momentary lapse. "Is everything alright? I can see, you're definitely troubled. You know you can talk to me, everything stays confidential in here."

Miss Pillsbury seemed caught off-guard when the boy began to cry, skipping the lead up of sniffles and going right into a torrent of tears. Emma immediately stood up and closed the door, then picked up her box of tissues and handed it to the teen. "Rory what's wrong? Talk to me," she urged.

The teen finally got himself under control, wiping his eyes dry with a tissue, clearing up his nose and clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't know what came o'er me."

"Is it Sam? Did something happen with Sam?" she asked, returning to her chair behind the desk.

Rory straightened himself up. "Kind of. Sam, and Blaine. Blaine's our best friend, ye' know, and there was a big fight and now I'm not supposed to see him anymore."

Emma was confused. "What exactly happened? Start from the beginning."

Rory spent the next five minutes relaying to her how Blaine had been so lonely and sad since Kurt's departure to NYC, and how upset he was that Kurt wasn't coming home for the holidays, either. He then told her about the kiss. It felt odd at first to be telling someone else about it. Sam had seemed to want to keep it incredibly secret, but it was one of those things that he needed to get off his chest as well. He didn't tell her about Sam throwing the punch, nor him accidentally getting hit. Instead he just skipped right to Sam throwing Blaine out of the apartment and then forbidding Rory from hanging out with him.

Emma was at a loss for what to say. Really, she could relate to both Sam and Rory's points of view, and even empathize with Blaine, but as a guidance counselor she couldn't take sides.

"Have you tried talking to Sam about it again? Now that he's had a chance to calm down and think about this?" she asked him.

"Sort of, but, well, not really," he answered, scrunching up his face in his own confusion. "I didn't want to bring it up yesterday, he seemed in a better mood and I didn't want to ruin it. The only time anything was said was when he suggested I talk to Tina about getting a ride after school with her, and then that was it."

Emma thought a moment before going on. "Well, maybe try talking to him again. Maybe when he's in a good mood is the best time. He might seem more receptive to a more positive solution if he's feeling happy," she suggested. It was partially true—she knew people were more likely to agree to things they may not have when they were angry, but something like this was pretty major.

"I just don't want to hurt Sam any more than he is. He's really upset, because of the things that happened with him and Quinn and Santana. They cheated on him, he said," Rory explained, figuring it would be okay to tell Emma these small details since she had vowed confidentiality of their conversation.

"Well, Rory, I don't pretend to be an expert on relationships at all. What I do know, though, is that nothing can ever be solved if nobody is willing to talk about it. If you don't bring it up, odds are that Sam won't either, and nothing will happen. If you  _do_  talk to him, then perhaps you can get him to listen and agree to at least work things out with Blaine. I know you boys are close, it's a shame to throw all that away for a mistake, no matter how big or small," the woman said, hoping that she was giving him decent advice. Despite being a guidance counselor, she was still leery of any kind of relationship advice only because she didn't want to be the one responsible should things head south.

"Maybe I'll try that. Maybe later this week, when Sammy has had time to cool off more. I just value our friendship with Blaine too much to let this stupid  _thing_  ruin it fore'er."

Miss Pillsbury smiled. "That sounds like a great idea, Rory. Sam's a rational young man, I'm sure you can work things out eventually."

Rory sniffled and wiped his nose with a tissue before tossing it into the trash bin. "Thank ye' so much ma'am," he said, legitimately smiling for the first time all day.

"It's what I'm here for. You can come to me any time you need to, you know," the woman responded pleasantly. "Now how about we get back to that checkbook before study hall is over."

As she promised, they spent the rest of the study period going over Rory and Sam's bank account, the checkbook, and even discussed the idea of setting up a budget of some sort to help manage their money. By the time Rory left the office, he not only felt better about the situation with Sam and Blaine, but also felt much more secure that he had a handle on managing their finances.

-ooo-

"So, where's that hottie friend of yours?" Ginny asked when Tina dropped Rory off at the bookstore.

"Oh, you mean Blaine? He uh… he has things he has to do for a while, so Tina is giving me rides for now," he fibbed. Rory hated lying, but there was no reason for Ginny to know about the things going on at home.

Ginny shrugged and went back to what she was doing, satisfied that she would at least get her daily glimpse of Sam when he came to pick Rory up in the evening. As far as she was concerned, it was simply unfair that all the hot guys she came in contact with happened to not only be coupled up already, but also happened to be gay.

-ooo-

The rest of the week went by rather slowly, mainly because it was the first full week since the holidays, but also because Rory was still stressing about Sam and Blaine. He decided Thursday he would talk to Sam, because if he did lift the ban, that would leave Rory a chance to talk to his friend on Friday.

By the time Thursday came, Rory had thought over everything he wanted t try and say to Sam to try and convince him to give Blaine a second chance and move past the horrible incident.

Sam noticed Rory was fidgeting in his seat on the way home. He was almost afraid to ask why; because he had an idea it might have to do with Blaine. Ever the caring boyfriend however, he asked what was wrong.

"I'm okay. I just want to get home. Long day," Rory said, hoping it would shut Sam up until they got home. His prayer was answered as Sam accepted his response, putting his hand on Rory's knee and rubbing it affectionately.

When they got home, they settled down on the couch to watch TV—more recorded episodes of the talking horse and the island castaways that had quickly become two of Rory's favorite 'old school' shows. He was leaning back in Sam's arms when he began to fidget again.

"Are you  _sure_  you're okay? You're getting twitchy again," Sam observed. Rory wiggled a little until he was sitting straight up, turning to face his boyfriend.

"Actually… I wanted to talk to ye' about something, but I don't want ye' to get mad," the young teen replied. Sam eyed him suspiciously. "It's… about Blaine."

Sam sighed. "I had a feeling. Is there really anything else to talk about?"

"Do ye' promise not to get mad? To stay calm and listen to me?"

"Yes, yes, I promise. Let's get this out in the open and over with. What's on your mind, babe?" Sam adjusted himself so he was sitting upright as well, then reached over to the table for the remote, muting the television.

"I 'aven't talked to him all week, just like ye' asked, but I 'ave seen him in the halls, and if ye' could see how hurt he looks…" Rory began. "Sam, I know ye' had issues with Quinn and Santana before, but this is different. They knew what they were doing. Blaine… he made a bad mistake, but he didn't intend to hurt anybody."

Sam sat in silence, watching the boy intently. "I know it hurts ye' that he kissed me. I'm upset about it too, but I try so hard to understand  _why_  he did it. That's why I find it so hard to just sign him off fore'er. It doesn't seem right," Rory continued.

Sam continued to gaze at him, Rory unable to tell what was going on in his mind. Sam wasn't turning red with anger, so that was a good sign so far. "Rory, I just need time, okay? I can't just get over it overnight. You're my boyfriend. Him kissing you, it's like… it's like him trying to steal something of mine. Like if he tried to steal my guitar."

Rory scrunched his face up, a little off put by Sam's analogy. "I'm not a guitar, Sam. He can't just take me away."

"I know. You're my boyfriend, which is a hell of a lot of more valuable to me. But the point is that it feels like something special to me was in danger, and it scares me," Sam replied, agitated. "He broke a big trust, Rory. A big one. Something friends  _never_  do is make a move on each other's boyfriends or girlfriends. It's crossing a line that isn't easily uncrossed."

The younger teen looked down at his feet. "I guess I'm kind of hurt that you aren't more upset, too," Sam admitted.

Rory frowned, but didn't look up. "Sammy, I  _am_  upset. It makes me mad he did it. It makes me mad he didn't 'ave better judgment and self-control. It makes me mad that it puts our friendship in a bind. It makes me mad that it upsets ye' so much. But I can't hate him, Sam. He made a mistake. Think of all the things he's done for us."

"You know what my dad always said? One 'oh shit' always wipes out a hundred 'atta boys'." Rory really looked confused Sam's quotation. "It means one mistake wipes out a hundred good things."

"That hardly seems fair. If someone has done a hundred good things, doesn't that mean one mistake can be forgiven? Even if it's a big one, worth fifty mistakes?" Rory finally shifted his gaze back toward Sam, his bright blue eyes pleading for understanding from the older boy.

The blonde sighed. "I just need time. I need time, okay? Can't you at least try to respect that?" he asked, irritated. "Even if you're not bothered by it,  _I_  am. I need time to think things out, to make sense of it all. Give me a little slack, okay?"

"I'm sorry. I just want peace again. I love ye' so much, Sam. And I care about Blaine. He's our best friend, even if he did fuck up," Rory replied.

"Wow, you said 'fuck'. Upping the ante on me, huh?" Sam managed to joke. "Look babe, just give me some time to deal with this. Maybe we can move past it, but for right now, I'd feel better if you kept the communication to a minimum."

Rory smiled softly and snuggled up to his boyfriend. "Okay. I'll give ye' time. And trust me, it does bother me a lot, too, but I  _want_  to forgive him and move past it. Don't think it isn't important to me. It is. Maybe I just don't show it so much."

Sam rolled his eyes playfully and hooked his arm around the boy's neck, giving him a teasing knock on the forehead. "That's my boy. Heart of gold." They returned to their previous position, Rory resting in Sam's arms on the couch. "Can we just please not talk about it anymore?"

"Okay, Sammy. Let's watch the TV shows before bed." Rory picked up the remote and turned the volume back on, smiling to himself. As far as he was concerned, he had made some form of progress.

-ooo-

That Saturday afternoon, Sam said he needed to run to the grocery story, asking Rory if he would mind doing some cleaning up while he was gone. What Sam actually went to do however, was go to his parents' house. He called his family as soon as he got in the truck, getting his dad.

Mrs. Evans was out at the park with the kids, Mr. Evans getting some work done during the peace and quiet. He welcomed Sam inside, hugging him tightly. They went into the kitchen, pouring themselves drinks.

"So, son, what's with the random visit? You sounded kinda, I dunno, tired," his father asked as they sat down at the kitchen table. "You didn't get Rory pregnant did you?"

Sam laughed at his dad's joke. He knew that no matter what was wrong, his dad would always have a way to make him smile. "No, no. I just wanted your advice I guess."

Mr. Evans shifted from humorous mode to serious father mode. "Go ahead son, what's on your mind?"

Sam looked his father right in the eyes, despite feeling shame for what he was about to tell him. "Dad… Blaine kissed Rory."

His father's eyes went wide. "Blaine. Kissed. Rory," he repeated. "Blaine kissed Rory. Okay, what's the rest of the story?"

"They were doing some song picks, and somehow Blaine just got kind of stupid and kissed him. Rory said he ran off but forgot his keys, so when I saw him in the parking lot when I was coming home from work, I invited him back up. That's when Blaine just kind of blurted it out," Sam explained.

Mr. Evans put his finger on his chin, thinking. "So what'd you say to him?"

"I punched him," his son answered, looking down at the table and blushing. "I mean, I tried to, but Rory jumped in the way so I kind of hit him in the shoulder by accident. Then I yelled at Blaine to leave and he ran off."

Mr. Evans hung his head, massaging his forehead with his hand. "So you tried to hit him, hit Rory instead, and then he left. Okay. What happened next?"

Sam paused, taking a sip of his drink to quench his dry throat. "I basically begged for Rory to forgive me for hitting him. We talked it out, he was mad but he's over that. The problem is me."

Mr. Evans scrunched up his eyebrows. "The problem is you? Sounds to me like the problem is Blaine. What makes you think you're at fault, son?"

"I don't mean it's my fault, I just mean… Dad, I can't forgive him. I'm too mad. He tried to take what's mine."

"Hold on, son. Rory isn't an object to just  _take_. Don't think like that. He's kind of the victim here. You want my advice? Talk it out. With Rory,  _and_  with Blaine."

The teenager sighed and hit his head on the table before looking up at his dad again. "I  _did_  talk about it with Rory. All he does is tell me how much I should try and understand what Blaine's going through and how I need to try and forgive him. He doesn't get it. I'm hurt."

"Sounds to me like he's right though, son," Mr. Evans stated. Sam looked up at him, horrified. "Blaine made a big mistake, but you need to talk about it with him. You boys are too good of friends to just leave it hanging like that. You need to talk to Blaine and get on the same page. That will make you feel better. Even if after talking to him, you decide you can't forgive him, at least you made an attempt."

"I can't. Not right now. I'm just too upset. I might try and hit him again, or who knows what."

"Sam, little boys hit each other when they're mad. Not grown men. We taught you better than that. You take a few more days to think it out, think about what you wanna say, and then make that effort. Whatever the outcome, you'll be glad you did it."

Sam thought for several moments before speaking again, his father simply watching him patiently. "Alright. I'll give it a couple more days so I can think about what I wanna say. Then I'll talk to him. I'll keep my cool. But if I don't feel better after-"

"You can throw me in the pool with my work clothes on. You know, I'm proud of you son. I don't approve of your reaction, but I'm proud that you wanna protect your boyfriend," Mr. Evans said, standing up. Sam followed suit, closing the distance between them and hugging his father tight.

"Thanks, Dad. I knew you'd have some way to make me feel better. You always do," Sam said with a smile.

Mr. Evans shrugged. "It's what I do." They both laughed before hugging again. Sam told him he needed to get going—he was supposed to be at the grocery store—but promised he and Rory would make a proper visit very soon.

"You better make a visit. You know it's killing your mother not seeing you everyday. And the kids go crazy, and okay, okay, I miss ya too," his father admitted. Sam reiterated his promise before leaving, hugging his father one last time. Mr. Evans stood on the porch, watching his son back out of the driveway.

-ooo-

Sam didn't tell Rory about his detour to talk to his father, but Rory noticed he was definitely in a better mood than he had been all week. They spent the rest of the day going over song selections, singing a few of them together, and then Sam practiced his guitar for a while so Rory could work on his schoolwork. They cooked dinner together and watched a movie before going to their bedroom, cuddling until they fell asleep.

 


	41. Episode 41: The Glee Club Project, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Here we go into the next big arc of the story! You'll notice a difference in beta—Ragnarok45 is taking a break due to excessive schoolwork, so my friend TVTime is filling in for now. I highly recommend reading his work if you haven't already. It's very good and well written! Sorry it has taken so long to get this out, but between switching betas for a while and other projects (including another Sory story that will be very different and very fun) and life in general, I just don't have but so much time anymore! By the way, I hope everyone is enjoying season 4 of Glee. I like it a lot more than I thought I would, even if there is no Rory. Sam is getting much more screentime and awesomeness so that eases the pain :p  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: TVTime  
> **

**Recap:**  Blaine kissed Rory and he swears it was an accident, and Sam went nuts when he found out, almost hitting Blaine in the process! Filled with guilt, Blaine has been ostracized from his friends while Sam and Rory work their own issues out. Rory gets advice from Miss Pillsbury and Sam seeks help from his dad but Blaine has nobody, not even Kurt because he hasn't told him yet and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 41: The Glee Club Project, Part 1**

"Are you ready for this?" Sam asked, standing next to his boyfriend, the pair having just entered the fancy Riata Hotel, where the Glee Club Project was going to be taking place. It was a tall building with decor inside that resembled a movie theater-maroon and black carpeted walls, dimly lit sconces, a snack bar in lieu of a gift shop, and a front desk that had sides coming up like a teller window at a bank.

"I kind o' 'ave to be, don't I? No turning back, or else I let e'eryone down," Rory replied nervously.

"You'll do fine. You'll win and it'll be awesome," Sam assured him. "Look, there's a sign over there for check-in." He pointed at a sign pointing to a conference room, the white lettering advising them that it was contestants only from that point on.

"Abandon all hope ye who enter here," Sam joked. Rory shot him a glare of admonishment.

"Not funny!" he scolded. Sam laughed and hugged him, then snuck in one last kiss before watching him disappear into the conference room, dragging his suitcase behind him. Sam bit his bottom lip, trying not to tear up. It was only going to be a couple of weeks, but it would seem like forever. Sam would be all alone in their apartment with nobody to talk to, nobody to come home to at night. He would have to sleep in their big bed by himself without his boyfriend to snuggle up with. It was going to be a long two weeks.

-ooo-

Rory recognized only one of the other contestants in the room from the audition, a tall black girl, slightly heavyset with a chin-length bob. Apparently she recognized him back, because she smiled and waved to him before approaching.

"Hi there, I'm Unique Adams, from Carmel High," she said. Something about her voice seemed a little off. It reminded Rory of a very soft-spoken guy who may not have quite reached puberty yet. He was definitely interested in hearing her sing, it might make for a very  _unique_  voice.

"Rory Flanagan, McKinley High in Lima. Nice to meet ye'," he said, holding his hand out to shake hers.

"Oh, an Irishman! I love accents, they're so...elegant!" Unique exclaimed. "Can't wait to hear you sing. Oh, have you signed in yet?"

Rory shook his head. "No, not yet. I just got here." His eyes were scanning the room, checking out the other contenders.

"Well you better go sign in. Find out who your roommate is. You know we're having a big dinner tonight? It's going to be so wonderful! Well, I'll see you soon, I'm going to go mingle!" With that, the friendly girl made her way to another contestant just entering the room. It made the teen feel much better meeting at least one person who was friendly. Perhaps the others would be as well.

Rory approached the table where they were registering the contestants and was greeted with a friendly smile from one of the ladies he had talked to at the audition registration. Apparently she remembered his as well.

"Oh good, you got in! I was hoping we'd get to hear your Irish accent in song!" she said excitedly. "Okay, I just need you to sign here that you arrived," she instructed, pushing a clipboard toward him and pointing at the place where he needed to sign. He made his signature and then the lady smiled as she looked at another list.

"It looks like you'll be rooming with Sebastian Smythe, from Dalton Academy. He's a very polite young man, but seems all business. I'm sure you'll get along fine," she said. "Here's your room key; sign here that you received it. Feel free to linger in here, or go check out your room. Either way, you need to be back here at two for a welcoming meeting and then tonight around six is the welcome dinner."

"Thank ye', ma'am," the teen replied. As soon as he turned away from her, his face fell. Sebastian Smythe. Of all people to get paired up with for a roommate. He wanted to laugh in the woman's face when she suggested they would get along. If only she knew. Moreover, when Sam found out Sebastian was not only at the competition but also his roommate, he was  _not_  going to be happy about it at all.

-ooo-

All the way back home Sam did a lot of thinking. It was a good time to think, since he had no distractions at all. He even turned off the radio. Driving down the interstate was peaceful—no stoplights or heavy traffic to worry about. He set his cruise control and let his mind wander.

_What do I do about Blaine? Damn, why is that the first thing I think about? Because it's what bothers me the most. I never did get up the balls to say anything to him like dad said I should. I'm just so mad. So hurt. How could he do that to me? To us?_

_I trusted him. Rory trusted him. Hell, Kurt trusted him. I wonder if Kurt even knows. Probably not. He needs to though. Not my job to tell him though. At least Blaine didn't fuck him. Rory wouldn't have let that happen though. I know he wouldn't._

_If I don't have this resolved by the time Rory gets back, he's gonna be pissed at me. Before we even left the house this morning he said 'Sammy, work things out with Blaine while I'm gone. Don't hurt him, but talk to him. For me, please.' Goddamned Rory and his way of getting to me. He knows just what to do to get his way. That look. That look that says 'please do what I want or else I'll be so sad!' Can't have that look waiting for me._

_Am I really overreacting? It was an accident. Sort of. Would Blaine really have done that if Kurt was here? No. If I was there? Fuck no. So why? Does he think Rory can't handle himself? Rory's stronger than any of us. He can handle Blaine and his damn issues better than Blaine can._

_Maybe that's what's wrong. Rory's trying to understand him. See where he's coming from. Okay, fine, but that still doesn't give anyone rights to be kissing everybody! I would never kiss someone else even if Rory was away for a year! I couldn't live with myself._

_Damn, Sam, you can hardly live with yourself now. Still got a crapload of guilt over nationals, and he swears he forgives me. He swears it's in the past. Doesn't it pop in his head now and then though? It would to mine. I think. I'm lucky he even took me back. I treated him like shit. Now all this crap with Blaine._

_But Blaine is different. I didn't do this. I'm the one hurt. Rory didn't even do anything. He's just the victim. He said he sees Blaine in the hall, looking like he just wants to crawl in a hole and die. He feels guilty. He's sorry. If he wasn't he wouldn't act like that, would he? Nah, he'd act like nothing happened, or even mad._

_Rory even said he wanted to go talk to him but he wouldn't because of me. Hah, talk about dedication. Who am I to order him to do anything? He should have looked me square in the face and said 'fuck you' and done what he wanted to. He'd never do that though. Even though sometimes he should. Like when I'm being a jerk. Was I this much of a jerk to Quinn, or even Santana? Not really. Maybe some to Santana. But never Quinn. So why Rory? Why am I such an ass to him sometimes?_

_Ugh. I can't even focus on one thing in my head. Just skipping around. I guess the least I can do is make a decision about Blaine. I demanded that Rory not talk to him. I guess it's only fair that I do what Rory asked me to do. He didn't even demand it. He asked me to. Who do I think I am to be giving him orders? No, wait, I already went there._ _I need to do it though. I need to talk to Blaine at least. If I do that much, maybe I won't get that look. That heartbreaking look. Damn his beautiful blue eyes! It's not fair! They're like a weapon, some sort of gamma ray that turns me into mush. Maybe that's only because when he does it, I_ need _to turn into mush. Maybe that's the point._

_Yeah, when I get home, I'm gonna at least send Blaine a text. Say hi or something. Maybe ask how he's doing. Eh, I'll just let my fingers figure it out later._

Sam's inner monologue continued until he got home. His thoughts shifted from Blaine and his own guilt from various occurrences in the past, to wondering what Rory was up to at that moment, what kind of stuff he'd have to do. He thought about how bored he was going to be at home all alone, but then he had the idea of maybe having his brother and sister come over. Or even better, just going back home and hanging out with his family. He promised a proper visit, and it didn't take him long to resolve to do just that before Rory returned from the competition.

-ooo-

Rory stood in front of the door to his hotel room, gathering up the inner strength he knew he would need to face Sebastian. It had been almost a year since he had last seen him. Did he look the same? Was he still stuck up? Did he still have so many hormones? Only one way to find out.

The Irishman slid his key into the slot, waited for the click, and opened the door. The suite was large, thankfully with two beds, a desk, a table and chairs, and a television set.

Laying right in the middle of one of the beds was Sebastian. He was wearing casual clothes—too tight jeans, a form fitting button-down shirt, and an expensive pair of shoes. Under different circumstances, he would have looked very attractive, but the fact that it was the Sebastian was enough to turn Rory off.

"Nice to see you, Rory," Sebastian said, sitting up and crossing his legs. "You're looking good."

"Thanks," Rory replied flatly. Normally he would have been much more appreciative of a compliment, but with Sebastian he wanted to keep the talking to a bare minimum.

"Come on, now. You don't have to sound so bitter. Can't we put the past behind us?" the Warbler asked. For once, his voice lacked the sarcasm he was usually dripping.

Rory smirked. "We aren't being friends. I won't forget what ye' did, and I sure don't trust ye'. Ye' stay in ye'r bed, and I'll stay in mine, and we'll be just fine," the teen stated confidently. He knew that the only way he would be able to deal with Sebastian would be to project an air of assertiveness and show that he wouldn't be intimidated or easily manipulated by him.

Sebastian sighed. "Is it an apology you want? I suppose I do owe you one. What I did was less than admirable. It's only because I liked you. I wanted to be with you."

"And let me guess, ye'r not used to not getting what ye' want? I'm not an object to be won o'er. Forget it." Rory dragged his suitcase further into the room, heaving it up onto the bed.

"Would you like some help unpacking?"

"No," Rory replied firmly. He started to wonder if maybe he was being  _too_  assertive. If he was treading on the possibility of being a jerk. "I mean, no thank ye'. I appreciate the offer though. It was nice of ye'."

Sebastian was slightly taken aback by the added words. He hadn't really expected anything except coldness, but the last statement almost sounded friendly.

The younger student opened his suitcase and began to unpack. "Did ye' leave any space for me?" he asked, trying to sound light.

"I took the wardrobe, but you can have the closet and the dresser. Feel free to take the bedside table, too, if you want," the Warbler replied warmly.

"Thanks," Rory replied, starting to remove his clothing from his suitcase. He carried his shirts to the closet, hung them up, and then placed his pants and jeans into the dresser drawers. He positioned himself in such a way that Sebastian couldn't tell which drawer he placed his boxer shorts in. He took out his sundry bag and placed it in the bathroom, then returned to the bed, sighing. "Well, all done with that chore."

"You can put your suitcase in the bottom of the closet, next to mine. Don't worry, I won't mess with any of your things," Sebastian said. He started to sound a little sad, as if he were hurt that his effort at being friends wasn't working.

After putting his suitcase in the closet, Rory came back and approached Sebastian. "Ye' know, we'll ne'er be friends, Sebastian, but we can agree to be civil, right? I'll leave ye' alone, and ye' leave me alone." Sebastian nodded his head in agreement, his mouth turned down in a sad smile.

"Sure," the older teen stated. "I really am sorry you know. That's not me anymore. Maybe you'll see that. Maybe we can leave here with at least mutual respect for each other."

"Alright. I can accept that. Ye' know, I don't  _want_  to hate anybody. It takes too much effort and energy. I'll be satisfied if I can leave here, not feeling that hate toward you," Rory said. Before he plopped down on the side of the bed, he held out his hand. "Good luck, Sebastian. It's still a competition, but good luck to ye'."

Sebastian shook his hand and smiled warmly. "Thank you. Good luck to you as well. I hope to see you in the final two. It'd be great to have a proper 'showdown'."

Both boys chuckled at the use of the word 'showdown', automatically thinking of the wild west. "Maybe we should go see if there's anyone to talk to. Mingle with our fellow competition. Every man for himself, but we can still make nice. I promise not to attach myself to you," Sebastian said.

"Sounds like a good idea, actually. Might make dinner less awkward if we know e'eryone a little bit first," the younger teen agreed. He was still skeptical of his roommate, but he would try his best to give him the benefit of the doubt. As long as they honored their pact to keep to themselves, everything would be just fine, and then he could go home and brag to Sam that he had handled their foe on his own just fine.

-ooo-

Sam stared at his cell phone like the small device, which was resting innocently enough on the coffee table, was truly an object to be dreaded. He had promised himself that he would at the very least send Blaine a text when he got home, but now that he was back and faced with the task, he was unsure of himself.

_Am I really going to let a stupid text bother me? All I gotta do is say hey, or what's up? If he doesn't answer, then I can say I tried._

Gathering his resolve, Sam sat up, snatched his phone from the table, and started to browse through his contacts. Blaine Anderson. His user picture was of course photo-shoot worthy, his perfect smile and gelled hair, all accented by his bowtie. Seeing his face gave Sam a shiver, but he couldn't figure out why. It wasn't disgust, or even anger. It was…no, it wasn't pity; it was…he couldn't place his finger on it.

_He didn't mean it. Dad always said one 'oh shit' wipes out a hundred 'atta-boys' but Rory said that someone who did so many good things deserves to make a mistake now and then, even if it's a big one. Both of them make sense but…I think dad refers to the working world. I think Rory makes sense for the social world_ _. Yeah, Blaine deserves_ something _I guess._

Sam slid his finger onto the button to send a text and quickly typed one in.

_Hey, how're you doing?_

"That sounds so lame," Sam said aloud. Maybe if he just tried to act casual, they could just skip the awkward talk and move on. That'd be the ideal situation, to just ignore it, but Sam knew he couldn't do that, and neither could Blaine.

_Ok. Is this Rory, or Sam?_

Sam's first reaction was to sarcastically reply with 'Who's phone do you think you're typing to?' but logic hit him when he realized that Blaine wasn't particularly expecting a message from him, that perhaps Rory had picked up his phone by accident instead of his own.

_Sam of course. Just checking on ya._

"That sounds even lamer," Sam commented to the empty room. He was curious how Blaine was reacting on the other side of the phone.

_Aren't you mad? I screwed up bad, you don't have to be nice to me if you don't really want to._

It was obvious—Blaine hated himself so bad that he was actually trying to push away any attempt at communication. Sam could detect the forlorn tone in his friend's voice, even through a text message.

_I'm mad, but you're still a friend._

Moments later, he received another reply that came across as hostile, but Sam determined had to be meant as lacking hope that things might have a chance of being alright.

_Are you saying that for Rory, or because you want to?_

Sam considered his response carefully. Texting was so frustrating because tone was completely lost and it relied completely on the words themselves to get the message across.

_Because I want to. We need to talk, in person._

Sam could only imagine Blaine on the other side trembling at the idea of being in the same room with him. His imagination was confirmed a second later.

_Only if you promise not to hit me._

The blonde couldn't help but chuckle. Reading it, it sounded almost childlike. Blaine had every right to say that though. Sam  _did_  try to hit him, and probably would have if Rory hadn't jumped in the way. That was a disaster either way. Hit one of their best friends, or hit his boyfriend, neither one had an acceptable outcome. Sam didn't realize he had so much rage inside of him until that one moment.

_I promise. We can meet in public if you want. Just wanna talk things over._

Sam was on edge for ten minutes before he finally got a reply. At first he thought that perhaps Blaine was shrugging off his suggestion as some sort of evil plot against him, but that was the kind of crap people did on TV, not in real life. Finally, he got a response.

_Okay. You pick time and place._

The perfect response, because it put the ball in his court. The sooner the better, before he lost his nerve and his maturity. He finally decided on the Lima Bean. It was in public, but not like the mall where it was all noise and distraction. It was actually cozy, allowing for a slightly more relaxed environment—anything to put both of them at ease.

_Lima Bean at 5 good for you?_

Blaine replied in the affirmative, much to Sam's relief.

_Yeah, that's good. See you then._

Satisfied that his invitation was accepted, he wrote back 'ok' and then sighed.  _Maybe this won't be as hard as I think it is. I can't think of it as all for Rory though. He's my friend too. Do I really wanna lose my friend?_

Sam looked around the room, the paintings on the wall just one reminder of the many things Blaine had done for him and Rory in their time together. Blaine had been the first person he confided in about his feelings. Blaine had been the most encouraging of anyone else they knew. He looked out for both of them, especially Rory. He was there to help when Rory got drunk and needed a place to stay for the night. He was there to keep him safe from Sebastian. Blaine was there to chase down Rory when Sam had went off on him at nationals. It was Blaine who convinced Rory everything would be okay and to keep Sam with him. Blaine gave Rory rides all the time, spent time with him. The more Sam thought about these things, the more his eyes watered until finally he put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and cried.

-ooo-

Rory and Sebastian made their way downstairs to where everyone else was mingling with one another, making introductions and small talk. Now that everyone was together in one room, Rory got a chance to assess his competition.

There was Unique, of course, who definitely had a lot of personality. Depending on how well she sang, she could definitely be tough to win against if her stage presence was as strong as her social skills.

Talking with Unique was a short Asian girl, wearing a beret. She had a round face, pigtails, large glasses, and a nervous look about her. Sitting nearby in an armchair was an overly cheery girl with teased out black hair and bright red lipstick. This style gave her an almost comical look, as if she were trying way too hard. Next to her, in a matching armchair, was a thin boy with long dreadlocks that appeared to reach his waist and tattoos that could be seen peeking out from under the neck of his shirt. He was listening to the cheery girl ramble on and on, not even trying to speak.

Another tall boy approached Unique and the Asian girl and began talking with them. He was light skinned-a mixture of black and Hispanic most likely-with short buzzed hair. A tall black girl appeared in front of the boy with dreadlocks and the cheery girl and seemed to be sizing them up. She looked almost anorexic with a half-sneer on her mouth.

There were others, but none of them stood out to him. He decided he would visit the small group Unique was chatting with, since he had already met her and would feel most comfortable having at least one person he knew.

"Hi," Rory said, walking up to them, trying to maintain an air of confidence. If he seemed too nervous, it could work to his disadvantage.

"Hello again!" Unique said happily. "Everyone, this is Rory, from McKinley. I met him earlier, he's such a sweetie," she said.

"I'm Matt Rutherford," the mixed young man said, holding out his hand. Rory shook his hand and smiled. "I used to go to McKinley a few years ago. Mr. Schue still in charge of the glee club?"

Rory nodded slowly. "Uhm, yeah. A lot of new faces though, since all of the seniors left."

"Had to happen eventually. When I was there, Finn, Puck, Mike and I were all on the football team, and it seemed like every friggin day we had to put up with crap from the other team members. I hope that's changed," Matt said.

Rory almost snickered. "I wouldn't say so. They aren't too bad, but bad enough."

"The worst were Karofsky and Azimio. They should be graduating this year, come to think of it," Matt said, scratching his chin. "They still on the football team?"

"I... well, Karofsky transferred out, or so I heard. Azimio left as well," Rory answered. It wasn't really a lie - Azimio had left, just not to another school.

Matt shook his head. "Damn. They were good players. Jerks, but good players."

Thankfully their conversation moved on as the short Asian girl introduced herself. "I'm Sunshine Corazon. Nice to meet you." She held out her hand as well. Rory noted that she was kind of cold, something he noticed about many girls' skin. At least her smile was warm. "I was at McKinley for a week or so, but after Rachel Berry tricked me into going to a crack house, I decided I was better off somewhere else."

Rory hadn't heard that tale, and was seriously hoping she was being catty, but Sunshine didn't seem like that kind of person at all. The look on her face verified it for him as well; Rachel had indeed been mean to her. He was thankful that the laughter of the other two students dissipated the awkwardness he felt responsible just by association with Rachel.

The four of them continued to make small talk, telling about their respective schools and glee clubs, what they were studying and hoping to go to college for-the usual things teenagers discuss when they are still getting to know one another and haven't quite reached the point of expressing possibly controversial opinions. Thankfully, Sebastian stayed away, socializing with some other people who appeared to be rather boring judging by the looks on their faces.

So far, it looked to be a tough competition as far as being able to earn the respect of the audience and relax. Rory would just have to let himself go a little bit and loosen up. Even if he had to act silly and foolish, it's not like he would see any of these people again after the fact. Not even Sebastian, really.

-ooo-

Blaine sat nervously in the Lima Bean, clutching his coffee cup for dear life. He was never like this, but waiting for Sam to arrive was like waiting for his executioner to show up. He knew he was being stupid; Sam had promised not to hit him. Besides, Sam had even been the one to initiate this meeting. Nevertheless, just knowing the subject matter they would be discussing was enough to put him on edge.

"Hey," came the familiar voice of his friend. Sam pulled out the chair and sat down across from Blaine, setting his own cup down on the table. Sam couldn't help but notice that Blaine was fidgeting, tapping his feet and toying with his coffee cup.

"Hi," the senior said timidly. He refused to look up all the way, the sure sign of a guilt-ridden man.

"Calm down, man. We're just gonna talk. Don't give yourself heart failure," Sam said jokingly, trying to relax his friend.

Blaine cracked a smile. He appreciated the attempt at humor. "So... I guess you wanna talk about what happened, huh?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. It's time we did, don't you think? I mean, if we wanna try and salvage our friendship and all."

Blaine paused and then took a deep breath. "Look, I know that no matter what I say, it won't make it okay. I can't blame you if you wanna hate me or don't wanna be friends anymore." His voice was already wavering on the edge of tears. It was obvious that while he said he understood, he still didn't want it to come to that.

"I wouldn't be here if I wanted to hate you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't wanna try and still be friends, too," Sam said. He reached out and put his hand on Blaine's, pulling it away from his coffee cup and squeezing it. "Look, I wanna get past this. We just gotta get it all out in the open, you know?"

"I don't see how you can't hate me for what I did, Sam. It was awful," Blaine argued.

"Look at me," Sam stated firmly. He waited until Blaine lifted his head and met eyes with him. "I don't hate you. I'm pissed off. I'm mad. I'm hurt. But I don't hate you. So get that part in your head first, okay? No hate."

The corner of Blaine's mouth turned up slightly, as if the reassurance was enough for him. "You have every reason to be angry with me, Sam."

Sam didn't respond to that, but instead proposed a question. "What happened exactly? From your point of view."

At first the question seemed very odd to him, but after thinking about it for a moment, Blaine understood what Sam was asking. He basically wanted to know what was going through his mind at the time that it happened.

"I uh... well, we were working on music stuff, stuff for Rory to sing at the contest. We decided to take a break and we were sitting kind of close, I leaned over and...and you know..." Blaine answered, looking back down at his hands, unable to look his friend in the face.

"I was thinking about Kurt. I swear. I was thinking about how much I miss him, wishing he had been here to visit over break. Then I looked at Rory, and he reminds me so much of Kurt," Blaine went on.

Sam put his hands up in front of him. "Wait, I'm confused on that one. They act nothing alike..."

Blaine shook his head. "No, they don't really, it's the way they look. Same color hair, similar facial features, similar build. I just looked at him and pictured Kurt sitting there. It wasn't Rory sitting next to me, it was Kurt. It was Kurt and I wanted to kiss him so bad, and I just leaned over and..."

"And you kissed him. You kissed him thinking of Kurt," Sam stated. "Did you touch him?"

Blaine's body began to tremble. He hadn't done anything really bad, but he wasn't sure what exactly Rory told him, either. "I put my hand on his side. I think my other hand might have been on his knee. I swear though I never tried to touch him like  _that_."

_Rory hadn't mentioned that part, but maybe he didn't mention it to keep things from getting worse,_ Sam thought.

"Sam... I don't... I didn't... My head said Kurt the whole time, my body just did something stupid and said it was okay to do it. I know that sounds like a bunch of bull, but really, it's what I feel."

"Does Kurt know?" Sam asked, as if he hadn't heard the previous statement.

"No, not yet," Blaine confessed, tears welling up in his eyes again. "I'm waiting for the right time to tell him. I know he's gonna flip out, but I gotta tell him. I can't keep it from him."

Sam nodded, knowing Kurt was the type  _not_  to take things well, especially something like this. He would consider it a major betrayal and considering how dramatic Kurt could be, he might even dump Blaine over it. Sam didn't wanna see that happen to his friend, no matter how mad he was at him.

"You're not upset with Rory or anything, are you? You know it's not his fault at all, right?" the senior asked, anxious to take the focus off of his own relationship.

"No, I'm not upset with him. He was actually pretty mad at  _me_  at first," Sam replied. Blaine looked at him curiously. "He was mad I tried to hit you, and furious that I hit him by accident."

Blaine bit his bottom lip nervously. "I wish you would have hit me instead. I know you didn't mean to hit him, but he doesn't deserve that. Not Rory. I should have taken that hit. I had it coming," he said sullenly.

Sam put his hand on Blaine's shoulder and squeezed. "No, buddy. You don't deserve to be hit. Not by anybody. It was a stupid thing for me to do. Rory was angry that I was going to hit a friend, even if you did mess up." The blonde hung his head shamefully. "He was right. Hitting someone is not the answer. It would have made things worse."

Blaine ran his hands over his head, his perfectly gelled hair staying right in place. "I just wish I could take it all back. That I never kissed him, that I never ruined our friendship. Things are never gonna be the same, are they?" he asked rhetorically.

"They can be, if we try," Sam sighed. "Look, it's gonna take me some time to feel the same level of trust I did before. It's gonna take some time for me to stop being mad at you. But Blaine, you've done a lot for me, and for Rory. I can't throw all that away for a stupid mistake."

"I hope so," the younger teen muttered. "I wish there were so many ways to show you how sorry I am. I just don't know how."

"Wanna take the first step toward mending things up?" Sam asked lightly. "How about we never bring the topic up again? This was it, this conversation right here, right now, that was the last of it. I said my piece, you said yours, there's nothing else to really say about it anyway, right? So let's end it here. If we don't keep dwelling on it, we can work on getting past it, don't you think?"

Blaine looked up, meeting Sam's eyes again. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course I do. This has been tearing at my heart since it happened. I haven't slept very good, my head has hurt, I've cried, I've vented, I've cried some more. I'm tired of all that. I'm tired of feeling the pain, I'm tired of losing sleep and my head hurting and crying. I'm so tired of crying. I never used to be a crier, but I do it all the time now it seems."

"I'm so sorry for putting you through this. You both deserve so much better of a friend," Blaine moped.

"Blah, blah, blah. No self-pity. You have a much bigger hurdle to climb over now—telling Kurt. That's gonna be hard enough as it is, don't you think?"

Blaine nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah it is. But I gotta be a man about it. I can't lie; I can't keep it from him."

"Right, and now that you and I are working toward patching things up, one less thing on your shoulders. I'm mad but I can't be mad forever."

"I suppose not. I won't bring it up again, but if you ever feel like you need to, I'll take whatever you dish out, no questions asked. I owe you that," Blaine declared.

"Deal. Now I need a nap. Between all that driving and all this talking, I need a break!" Sam said, laughing. It felt good to laugh. It felt great to laugh, with Blaine.

Blaine smiled, and stood up. They hugged—a long, tight hug of a mending friendship-bid each other goodbye, and Sam was able to head home for his nap.

Sam was proud of himself. He handled it a lot better than he expected himself to. He had no idea what he was going to say when he went in there, but somehow, seeing Blaine and how remorseful he was helped him. It was true that he took slight pleasure in seeing the boy so regretful and apologetic, but it was also true that he couldn't stand to see a friend in pain.

Sam fired off a text message to Rory, even though he knew Rory wouldn't be available until much later.

_Mission accomplished. Love you lots!_

Blaine quickly walked away from the pleased Sam before he started to get visibly emotional. Everything he had said was truth, but what he didn't say is that in addition, he actually  _had_  been gaining feelings for Rory himself, not just the similarities with Kurt. That was something he could never tell anyone,  _ever_.

-ooo-

Dinner was an interesting affair at The Glee Club Project. Each of the contenders was formally introduced to the rest of the group, followed by introductions from several of the staff that would be conducting the competition. Of course there was Kevin, whom Rory had met at the auditions. The other two judges were involved both with local theater and amateur television production. They seemed friendly enough, but neither was as enthusiastic as Kevin.

After dinner, the daily routine was explained to the anxious teenagers. They were actually going to be on a pretty rigid schedule. They were to meet in the morning at eight to get their assignment for the day. They'd be given until noon to work on their assignment, then have lunch together. After that they were to be given a two-hour study hall during which they had to work on the schoolwork they were missing. After that they would continue with rehearsals until six, perform their assignments, and then have dinner while the judges made any evaluations that needed to be made. After dinner they would announce who, if anyone, was being cut that day, and then the contenders were released for the rest of the evening, but expected to be in bed by eleven at the very latest.

The most stressful part was that during the morning meeting, randomly throughout the rehearsals, the performances, and the cut announcement, the students were going to be filmed for the show.

The airings would be on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday for two weeks. The final two episodes would be between the final four, being reduced to only two on that Thursday's airing. Saturday's episode would feature the showdown and reveal the winner.

Rory returned to his room before Sebastian. He quickly changed into his pajamas in the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and crawled into bed. He finally got the chance to send Sam a response to his text message from earlier in the day.

_I'm glad! I miss you already! You'll never guess who's here…_

He almost regretted putting the last comment in, knowing Sam would not be pleased at all.

_Who?_

The teen took a deep breath before typing in his response.

_Sebastian Smythe. The Warbler_

It took less than a minute before he felt his phone vibrate several times in succession as Sam relayed his dismay,

_What? You're kidding me!_

_He better keep his hands off of you or else! I'll kick his ass!_

_Just stay away from him and if he tries anything…_

Rory giggled at Sam's overreaction and implied and unnamed threat to their foe. True, Sebastian had tried to make the moves on him the year before, complete with drugging him, but he had learned since then, and was ready to stand up for himself.

_I have it under control. Trust me. Going to bed. Love you so much! xoxoxo_

He could picture Sam on the other end of the phone, his fingers working the touch screen like a madman as he wrote and rewrote his response, never feeling like his send off was good enough.

_Be careful! I love you lots! Good luck! xoxoxoxo_

The teen smiled just as Sebastian strolled into the room.

"Turning in early?" Sebastian asked casually, tossing his blazer onto his bed.

"I think so, yeah. Long day and all and tomorrow I want to be ready for whate'er they throw at us," Rory replied. He had to remind himself of their truce whenever he so much as looked his way, let alone spoke. With luck, Sebastian would be cut sooner rather than later, and not only would he be rid of him, but the room would be all his.

"I think I'll do the same," Sebastian stated, heading toward the bathroom. Rory heard the water running as the Warbler prepared for bed. What Rory didn't expect was for Sebastian to come back out wearing only a pair of boxer-briefs that were unnecessarily tight, accentuating his crotch region.

Rory said nothing, looking away and sliding down into the bed. No matter how much he hated Sebastian, he still had to admit that the teenager was very handsome, and for the first time he saw that he was lean and toned, and unless he was toting socks in his drawers, quite gifted down below, though not quite as much as Sam. He couldn't be certain, only a quick glance did he allow himself.

"Goodnight Rory. Sleep well," Sebastian said, taking up his blazer and hanging it in the closet before sliding into his own bed.

"Good night," Rory replied simply. Both boys then reached over to their respective lamps and turned off the lights.

It took Rory a good half hour before sleep claimed him. He couldn't help but worry about Sebastian being in the room and wearing such provocative underwear to bed. Thoughts raced through his mind like crazy.

_Is he trying to turn me on? Is he still trying to get me from Sam? Is he hoping I'll cheat? Is he gonna try and get in the bed when I'm asleep? I hope not. I don't trust him, I wish I could have a guard or a knight standing between the beds._

Once he was asleep, Rory dreamt of Sam, dressed in a knight's outfit, standing at the bedside, a sword in hand as he held Sebastian at blade-point, warning him to keep to himself while the Irish teenager slumbered in his bed. Maybe the dream itself would be enough to keep Sebastian at bay. Or maybe he was just overreacting, and Sebastian really had changed and wasn't going to push him or bother him. Only time would tell.

-ooo-

Bright and early the next morning, Sebastian was already up and dressed by the time Rory awoke. He sat at the desk, quietly typing on a laptop, paying no attention to the boy waking up.

"Ye'r up early," Rory commented, stretching. "Breakfast isn't for another hour."

"Dalton has a very rigorous curriculum. The little time they give us later won't be enough for me to complete my assignments with any modicum of dignity. Despite what you may think of me, my education is important to me," Sebastian said flatly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend ye'," Rory apologized. Sebastian ignored him, continuing to type. The Irishman got out of bed, searched for some clothes in the drawer, and retreated to the bathroom for his shower. He decided to err on the side of caution and locked the door, something he normally wouldn't bother to do.

The Warbler rolled his eyes when he heard the lock click.  _What's he think I'm going to do, peek at him? Okay so I would if I could, but I have to be more careful this time around. Last thing I need is the kid starting trouble with the authorities._

When Rory finished his shower and morning routine, he found that Sebastian had already left to meet the others. He checked his watch—just enough time to send Sam a text.

_First day out, wish me luck! Love you very much!_

He didn't wait for a reply—Sam was most likely still asleep this early in the morning. They weren't allowed their phones during the day, so he turned it off and left it on the nightstand.

He left the room and headed toward the elevator. While waiting, he remembered the previous year at nationals and getting stuck in the elevator with Puck of all people. Puck had made him nervous, but all in all, he was actually a pretty good guy. Looking back, the event itself was pretty amusing, as long as he didn't bother to think about anything that happened afterward.

Finally arriving downstairs, he went to the dining room where there was a breakfast buffet waiting. He sat down with Unique and Matt, who were already busy eating. Unlike the rest of them, who had dressed mostly in jeans and tee shirts or long sleeve shirts, Unique was decked out in a form-fitting one piece with a wide belt and a mini-jacket over her shoulders. The girl definitely had a different sense of style.

Shortly after breakfast was over, they met in the conference room to receive their first assignment.

"Good morning, everyone!" came the chipper voice of a tall young man with light brown hair. "I'm Andrew. I'll be mentoring you guys during this whole process, as well as helping you with your clothing choices. As you know, this is your first big day, so I hope you all got plenty of rest."

Rory couldn't help but notice that Andrew looked not much older than the contestants, and was very animated, well dressed in a bowtie Blaine would be jealous of, and quite handsome. Rory wasn't normally one to give much stock in stereotypes, but it was obvious the man was gay the way he was regularly stealing glances at a few of the boys.

"Your first assignment is actually not that bad. Kind of a warm up if you will," Andrew began. "Today we have a theme, and today's theme is theatricality." Harmony and Unique both cheered in excitement, delighted by the theme, which was obviously a strength for both of them.

"You will each choose a song by an artist known for their overly theatrical performances, wearing extravagant costumes, wigs, makeup, whatever you want. Of course we have a costume closet and myself and our makeup stylist will be helping you with your selections."

Sunshine raised her hand. "What about choreography?" she asked. "Do we have to do all of that on our own too?"

Andrew smiled. "Yes, but it's very freestyle. We have our dance instructor, a guest from NYADA in New York, Cassandra July. She'll be available to help you all with any chorographical questions. She's tough, but she's very good. Now, you only have a few hours to work on this, and this is one of the few times you get complete freedom over song selections, so take advantage of it. Be wild, be crazy, have fun. We want to see just how over-the-top you can go!" He waved his arms in the air excitedly, clasping his hands as he finished.

"Okay guys, get to it!" he proclaimed. The entire group was at a loss of exactly where to go from there, but at Andrew's suggestion, they each took a quiet spot in the room to listen to music and make their selections. Rory sat in the farthest corner of the room, hidden behind a table and chairs. He put in his earphones and turned on his iPod, scrolling through the playlists to find something, anything, that he could be wild with.

_This is going to be hard! I'm not used to being wild and crazy. And I gotta do this in front o' e'eryone else, and it's gonna be on TV. Okay, calm down, Rory, ye' can do this."_

He took a deep breath and refocused himself, reminding himself that he was here on a mission, and if he had to act like a complete doofus to complete it, then he'd just have to let loose and go with the flow. Besides, the idea of this assignment was to be as wild and crazy as possible, putting on the most over-the-top performance he could come up with. It didn't have to be perfect. It didn't have to make a lot of sense. It just needed to be flashy, with a song just as 'out there' as the image he was trying to portray. The singing would be the easy part.

-ooo-

Sam hated waking up alone in the bed. It just didn't feel right. He had trouble getting to sleep, had bad dreams about drowning (an oddity since Sam was a very good swimmer), and then he woke up with a feeling like something was missing.

Sulking, Sam fixed himself some toast and orange juice, not even bothering to dress. He sat on the couch and turned on the TV, but the only thing on were cartoons. At least once the week started, work would occupy his mind most of the day, and he had resolved to spend some time back at home with the kids.

He looked around the room, sighing. Hanging on the wall was the blank canvas that he had never gotten around to painting. He finished his toast and then got up, taking the canvas off the wall and setting it on the table. Today he was going to tackle the painting.

-ooo-

The most outlandish singers that Rory could think of was Lady Gaga and Ke$ha. Deciding Lady Gaga was a bit  _too_  extreme, he settled on Ke$ha, whose white-trash-chic look he could pull off. All he would need is the most torn-up-looking clothes he could find, bandanas, and anything that looked, well—trashy. Ke$ha was also heavy on the makeup, which he figured Andrew could help him out with. That was his job as mentor anyway, to assist the contestants with wardrobe, among other things.

Despite the fact that New Directions had performed the song before, he chose  _Take it Off_ , for its lyrics promoting craziness and wild behavior. He kept telling himself that once he got into costume and started singing, he would just have to let the Rory-Ke$ha take over. After all, the costume and makeup was hiding him, keeping him safe from embarrassment.

Happy with his selection, Rory sought out an unused room to practice in. He had until noon to rehearse, including time to pick out the costume. He had drawn number four. He hoped that the stuff he needed wouldn't be taken.

By noon, he felt like he had rehearsed well enough to perform the song without a hitch, and, as luck would have it, he found exactly what he wanted for his white-trash outfit. They were allowed to alter the clothes any way they wanted, so the knee length shorts he chose ended up with cut-off ends. He picked a yellow tank top to wear underneath an oversized shirt that hung loosely on his lithe frame. The shirt had a picture of the American flag across it; although it was rather faded and cracked-looking from years of wear. Tattered bandanas on his wrist and bicep and untied boots one size too large would complete the ensemble. After that it was up to Andrew to customize his look.

During lunch, he looked around, wondering what everyone else had picked out. He could already tell Unique would have something amazing—in the short time he had known her, her style had screamed 'in your face'. The person he couldn't picture all decked out in wild-wear was Sebastian. The teen always looked dressed up and preppy, his clothes pressed and perfectly fitting. Sebastian might be the first to go if he couldn't pull this off; that possibility was actually rather disappointing. Ideally Rory would love for him and Sebastian to be the final two so that they could have an honest to goodness showdown, one-on-one, and he could prove to himself, to Sebastian, and to everyone else that he was better than the Warbler. Somehow that would be better revenge for the way Sebastian had tried to take advantage of him in the past than anything else.

-ooo-

Stacy jumped up and down, cheering her oldest brother on as he played football with Stevie. She was waving little pom poms in the air, her pigtails bouncing up and down. "Go Sammy! Knock him down! Score a point!"

The little girl had no real grasp on the game itself, she just wanted to see Stevie get his rear handed to him, but as usual, Sam was taking it easy on him. If he had thrown the ball even half as well as he really could have, Stevie would have spent more time running to snatch it off the ground than anything else.

That didn't mean Sam had no chance of winning just because he was going easy. To his surprise, however, Stevie had gotten better, and was giving Sam a run for his money.

"Get up Sammy! Try again! You  _have_  to beat him!" Stacy cried loudly. Taking the encouragement from his sister, the teenager snatched up the ball and threw the winning point through the makeshift goal post. The little girl cheered more loudly than ever, racing up to her brother and hugging him. "Yay, Sammy! Yay! I knew you could do it!"

Sam smiled and looked at his disappointed brother. "You're getting pretty good. Been practicing behind my back huh?"

"Playing at school, in gym class. The girls play volleyball and the boys play football. I wanna get good enough to be a quarterback, just like you," Stevie replied. Sam grinned and ruffled the boy's hair, then followed the pair inside the house.

Inside, Mrs. Evans was just pulling out a tray of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies from the oven. "Give them a few minutes to cool, don't want to burn your mouths," she cautioned. She smiled at her oldest son. "Just like when you were little, Sam. You'd play in the yard with the kids, even when they were barely out of diapers. I'd always have fresh cookies for you when you came in from playing." A tear slowly fell down her cheek.

"Aww, come on mom, don't start that. You get crying, then I might cry or something, then everybody's in a mess," he chided gently, pulling her into a hug.

"I just… you were always my little boy, and now you're out of the house, in your own place, a job. I do have to admit, I pictured you with a girlfriend and someday a wife, but that's just because I didn't know any better," she said with a smile.

"Mom,  _I_ didn't know any different until I met Rory. I'm still your little boy you know. It's like a rule or something. Kids are always the baby to their parents. I'm just the baby who's a little more independent, that's all."

Mrs. Evans smiled and turned away, hiding another tear. It wasn't like her to be so emotional and sentimental, not outwardly anyway. She couldn't help it, though. Baking cookies for the children brought back so many memories.

"Let the cookies cool for a minute and then put them on a platter, please. I'm going to go make sure the kids wash their hands and their clothes are clean. I sure hope Stevie didn't get any grass stains on his new jeans," she said, strolling out of the kitchen.

As instructed, Sam waited a moment for the cookies to cool off, sneaking one a little sooner and almost burning his tongue. He put one on a napkin to take to his father in the living room.

"So, how's things going?" Mr. Evans asked, taking the sweet treat. "Did you take care of what you needed to take care of?"

Sam sat down next to his father. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. After I dropped Rory off at the hotel I thought about what I wanted to say all the way home. I met up with Blaine at the Lima Bean and we talked it out."

"And?" Mr. Evans urged for detail.

"And, we're cool now. I'm still pissed at him, and he knows that, but we're gonna try and work past it. We've been friends too long to throw it all away for a stupid mistake," the teen replied.

Mr. Evans took a bite of his cookie before speaking. "You got some encouragement from Rory, too, didn't you?"

Sam nodded his head. "Yeah. He's so mature. More than me probably. I mean, anytime we get in an argument, it's because I did something stupid and immature," he admitted.

His father laughed heartily. "Son, You're just fine. You guys wouldn't argue if you didn't love each other enough to care. I was like you when I was your age. Always doing dumb stuff, saying the wrong thing, or messing up on accident. Your mom was always there to scold me and set me right. That's how it works. A couple is two halves of a whole and all that. You got your part and he has his. Together ya'll make a whole pair."

"So basically you're saying I'm destined to be a big doofus like you, huh?" Sam teased.

"Yeah. It's a fine art, though. Being a doofus. Not everyone can do it. Own it, son. It's part of who you are. Just like being the grown up is part of Rory."

Sam half-smiled and put his arm around his dad. "You surely got a way of explaining things."

Their conversation was interrupted by the two children bounding into the living room, cookies in hand as they hopped up on the couch to join the two elders. For that afternoon, Sam felt like he was home again, like things were the way they had been before moving back to Lima. The way they had been when he was fourteen. It seemed so long ago, so much longer than five years. He sat back and watched them bicker over cartoons, his mother bringing him a baked treat of his own to enjoy. Sometimes he missed this, but he wouldn't give up Rory for anything.

-ooo-

The performances for the evening were quite an interesting event. Unique was definitely the most outrageous, showing up in an outfit Lady GaGa would be proud of. Sebastian was the biggest surprise for Rory, however. In the past he had seen Sebastian in both his Warbler uniform, and in casual clothes, but for this, he wore tattered jeans with holes in them, a cutoff sleeveless shirt, and some very tacky gold jewelry.

Not many of the other contestants really stood out, a couple of them very obviously missing the point of the exercise. The teen felt a little better already seeing that not only did some of the others look equally as goofy as he did, but that some put such little effort into it, which would definitely work against them.

When it was finally his turn, Rory got up onstage, reminding himself to just let go. He tried to picture the music video Ke$ha made for this song, as well as her others. He didn't have much for choreography, other than some jumping around and bad dancing. That was one of his major weaknesses—his inability to dance.

Rory lost himself in his head, concentrating on the lyrics and the music, letting himself act somewhat like Puck with an almost cocky yet carefree attitude as he moved, even going so far as to make a few hip thrusts—something he felt incredibly stupid doing. He knew that he would never hear the end of it once Sam and the other glee club members saw the episode aired.

The most difficult part of the night, however, was the announcement of who was going home. Being the first cut was never something easy, and the teen sat in his seat, sweating in his tacky outfit as he awaited the decision along with the others. Thankfully, the name called was one of the people he expected to not do well—a girl who very obviously put little effort into her costume and even less into her song choice. Rory recalled overhearing her complaining to someone else about having been 'forced' to come to the event by her school's music director.

The first elimination over with, everyone made their way back to their rooms for some well-deserved rest. Rory wasn't sure if his nerves or his body was more tired, but all he wanted was to pass out on the bed.

"You did great out there tonight." He heard the even tone of Sebastian's voice as the boy entered the room. "And you looked great as well."

"Uh.. thank ye'. I thought ye' did pretty good, too," Rory replied. Sebastian still made him uneasy, despite their agreement to have a truce. Sebastian grinned at him, then shucked off his shirt, tossing it on the floor.

"I've been so ready to get these awful clothes off and back into something more 'me'," the Warbler commented. His idea of 'me clothes' turned out to simply be his boxer shorts. He slid under the covers of his bed, turning off the lamp on the table. "Good night, Rory. Good luck tomorrow," he said with a smile.

"G'night. Ye' too," the Irish teen replied in his thick accent. He retreated to the bathroom to change into his pajamas before sliding into his own bed. Despite being covered in modest pajamas, he was still thankful for the cover of darkness as he recalled that the pants hugged his rear just enough to give the other teenager something to look at.

-ooo-

After another rigorous day performing their assignment, Rory was more than ready for a break—a break that would test his nerves all the more. It was the airing of the first episode of the show. He would be on TV for the entire country to see, if anyone outside of Ohio even cared. Even though this was just at the state level it was enough to drive a teenager into hysterics.

The episode was set to air at eight, day two of eliminations being announced afterward. Everyone gathered in the conference room, where a large-screen television was set up for their viewing pleasure.

"I'm very excited about this!" Kevin announced. "Our first airing and everything is off to a great start! To make this viewing a little bit easier on you guys, because I know how unnerving it can be with your first TV appearance and all, we've prepared a wonderful dessert for you to have while you watch. Andrew, if you don't mind," he said, motioning toward the back of the room, where Andrew was wheeling in a large cart.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present for you a delicious and not-so-nutritious treat! I hope you all like chocolate cake and cookies! This was all made fresh in the hotel kitchen, and I uh… snuck a few samples so I can guarantee it's good!" The dark-haired man grinned, uncovering a tray on the cart and revealing a large chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and vanilla drizzled across it in a crosshatch pattern. Beside it was a large collection of cookies—everything from chocolate chip to white-chip macadamia nut. A punch bowl completed the ensemble.

The contestants quickly got up to grab a plate and cup of punch before the show started. Sebastian took a seat next to the Irish teen, smiling.

"This doesn't compare to the food our cook at home makes," the Warbler commented. "You're more than welcome to come over and try something some time. Sam as well." Sebastian's invitation may have sounded genuine, but the glint in his eye told Rory it was a thinly veiled come-on.

"No, thank ye'. I don't think it's a good idea, given our history," the teen said, summoning up the most mature tone he could manage. "It's nice of ye' to offer."

Sebastian frowned but said nothing.

_I hope he didn't really think I'd take him up on that offer. Peace or no, after this is all over I have no intention of staying in touch._  Rory thought to himself.

Kevin broke the awkward silence by calling for everyone's attention. "The show is about to begin!"

-ooo-

Sam sat on the floor in front of his parent's couch, Stacy and Stevie huddled up next to him, the trio sharing a big bowl of popcorn. Their parents sat behind them, sharing their own bowl. The children were doubly excited since they usually had to go to bed by eight thirty at the latest, and here they were getting to stay up past their bedtime on a school night.

"The wait is killing me! I want to see him kick some musical ass!" Rory's host father announced, double-checking that the DVR was set to record the show. He had every intention of hooking it up to his computer later and transferring the episodes to a DVD for safe keeping, as well as to send to Rory's parents. Unfortunately for the Flanagans, Ireland didn't get the American channels.

"Calm down, dad. It's about to start," Sam chided him. He stuffed his mouth full of popcorn, chomping down on it noisily. Stacy giggled, always amused by the excessive noise her big brother made when eating. She blamed his large mouth, but their mother called it poor manners.

Finally the show began. First sponsors were listed and announcements were made. Next there was a short message from the coordinators that explained the concept of the show and the format for that particular episode. At last a brief introduction was given for each contestant. One by one they were shown off to the viewers at home, their portraits with overlays listing their names, ages, and which schools they were from.

Sam beamed with pride when he saw "Rory Flanagan, age 16. McKinley High School, Lima" appear on the screen. His brother and sister yelled excitedly, already cheering him on.

The Evans family then watched with complete focus, forgetting about their popcorn as they kept their eyes glued to the screen, waiting for Rory's performance, interviews, and the elimination.

By the end of the hour, the family let out sighs of relief and cheers of excitement as they saw their newest relative not only get some amazing praise from the judges, but also move on to the next round. Hopefully the rest of the contest would go just as smoothly and the boy would easily make his way to the final round.

Before bed, Sam and Rory traded text messages, reassuring each other of their love. Sam also sent him loads of congratulations from his family. As he lay back in bed, waiting to fall asleep, he actually said a prayer of thanks, grateful that he had such a talented and driven person in his life.

 


	42. Episode 42: The Glee Club Project, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Wow. I cannot believe it has been a year since I started this story! To be honest, I never anticipated it would go on so long, but the positive reaction with reviews, follows, and PM's encouraged me to keep going. I have had so much fun writing this epic tale and while I can't promise a third season, I will see what I can manage. I want to stop the story before it becomes stale and tired so we will just have to see. As a teaser, I am currently working on a crossover between Glee and my other favorite show, True Blood! I want to thank all of you for sticking with the story this long and your reviews and commentary and I especially want to thank my wonderful Beta team for their help and support because without them, there would be a hell of a lot more errors and continuity problems! By the way I want to note that I came up with the Blaine kissing Rory storyline well before The Break Up aired and I was honestly shocked when Glee actually had Blaine cheat on Kurt, especially as far as he went with Eli!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: TVTime**

**Recap:**  Rory started  _The Glee Club Project_ , and Sebastian ended up as his roommate, which Sam wasn't happy about but Rory and Sebastian called a truce. Meanwhile, Sam finally talked to Blaine and they decided to work on patching up their friendship. Sam and his family watched the first episode of TGCP and saw Rory advance to the next round and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 42: The Glee Club Project, Part 2**

Sam stared at the cell phone in his hand, debating in his head. His thumb rested over the 'call' button, wavering in indecision. Finally he just rolled his eyes at himself and pushed the button.

"Hello?" came a timid voice from the other end.

"Hey, Mitchell, it's Sam!" the older teen announced.

"Oh…"  _Sam? Why would he call me? I hope nothing's wrong. Darn it, say something dummy, he'll think I'm dense,_ Mitchell thought to himself. "Oh hi, Sam. H-how are you?" the boy replied, still sounding a bit nervous.  _Great, now I'm stuttering. He's really gonna think I'm a special case now._

Sam smiled at the boy's shyness. It was endearing and reminded him slightly of Rory. "I'm good. What are you up to this evening?"

Mitchell seemed a little confused by the question, silence filling the phone signal. "I uh, nothing really. I just finished my homework. I was waiting for Rory's TV show to come on in a little bit. He did really well last time," he finally said.

"You wanna come over and watch it with me?" the older teen asked, trying to sound cheerful despite feeling relatively lonely. His parents had gone out to dinner with the kids, opting to DVR the show to watch the next day, but Sam insisted he wanted to watch it during the run. He knew that Rory and the others would be watching at the same time, and that gave him a certain kind of comfort.

"Me? You want  _me_  to come over?" Mitchell asked.  _Why would he want_ me _to come over?_

"Sure, why not? You said you weren't doing anything, right? Gives us a chance to hang out, you and me," Sam said, hoping the teen would garner the courage to say yes.

Mitchell thought for a moment. "I can't drive. I don't have a license yet," he said.

"That's okay. I'll come get you. We'll pick up a pizza on the way home and chill out on the couch and watch Rory kick some ass. What d'ya say?"

"That sounds fun, Sam. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll head on over. I think I remember where you live from when I dropped you off, but if I forget I'll call," Sam answered. "See you soon?"

Mitchell smiled on the other end. "Okay, see you soon!"  _Wow, Sam really does want to hang out with me. I wonder if Rory asked him to. Oh well, this should be really fun, and it'll be nice to get out of the house for a while_ , Mitchell declared to himself.

_That boy seriously needs a confidence boost. He can barely handle a phone conversation without sounding like he might faint. Poor kid,_ Sam thought, grabbing his keys off the table. He checked his back pocket for his wallet, his hip for his phone, and then left, locking the door behind him.

A few minutes later, Sam pulled up in the driveway of Mitchell's house. It was a modest home, sort of what Sam and his family had lived in during their first round in Lima. He parked the truck and got out, knocking on the front door.

The door swung open and a balding, portly man stood there in a dirty shirt and coveralls. "Yeah?" he grunted out.

"Hi, uh, I'm Sam. I'm here for Mitchell," the blonde said. Normally he would have offered to shake hands but this guy didn't seem the hand shaking type.

The man sneered and turned into the house, yelling loudly. "Mitchell! Get down here, you got a visitor!" Sam winced at the tone in the man's voice. It sounded like the father out of every bad movie set in the south side.  _No wonder Mitchell is so jumpy._

Mitchell darted out of his room and to the front door, his head hanging down as he greeted Sam. "Dad, I'll be home by ten, I promise. We're just gonna watch a TV show and eat pizza," he said quietly.

"Yeah, okay," his father said, throwing the door shut after them, grumbling something unintelligible.

Ever the gentleman, Sam opened the truck door for his young friend, then rounded to the other side to let himself in. "So, you hungry for some pizza?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Mitchell said quietly.

"For what?"

"For what you saw. My dad. He's not a bad man, he just… he works real hard and has a few drinks when he comes home and can be a little… short," the boy replied, keeping his head down.  _He probably thinks Dad's some alcoholic bastard._

Sam shrugged. "Hey, no big deal. I could tell by the clothes he must be a hard worker," he replied, not wanting to offend. "You should have seen my dad back when I was a kid. He had a construction job and came home covered in all kinds of stuff every night." It wasn't an outright lie, his dad  _had_  worked for a construction company, but he was a white collar worker, an office man and not hard labor. He just wanted to put the boy at ease.

"He doesn't hit us or anything. He just gets real grumpy. He doesn't even yell except what you just saw. Usually he sits on the couch watching TV, drinking his beer until he goes to bed."  _Why did I just say that? It sounds like I'm trying to hide something._

"At least he doesn't get all loud and obnoxious and violent," Sam commented. Mitchell stared out the window, as if ashamed. "What kind of pizza you want? I can get us a discount because I know the manager. I used to work there until I got mugged last year."

"You got mugged?"

Sam chuckled. "Yeah. It wasn't as exciting as you think. They just roughed me up a little, took off with the car, but the cops showed up before it got bad. I kind of won out because I got a new truck out of it. The bastards kicked me in the balls though.  _That_  hurt for a good few days. I guess that was the cost of getting a new truck though. The cops never did find what happened to the car though."

Mitchell couldn't help but laugh. Sam just had a way of saying things that could make the most mundane topics sound amusing. It had to be the random voices he made up for effect.

"Wow. So that's why you went to work at the radio station?"

"Partially, yeah. I needed to do something with my life, make some money. My job helps pay for our apartment and stuff. Rory only works part-time pretty sporadically, so I bring in the bills, he brings in the fun," the blonde declared. He grinned, looking over at Mitchell to see if he was reacting.  _If only he knew what kind of fun! Damn I can't wait for him to get back, I'm gonna ravage him like mad. Shut up, Sam. Focus!_

The red-haired boy had gone from staring out the window with his head down to sitting back comfortably with a content look on his face, realizing that Sam wasn't judging him or his family afterall.

-ooo-

Mitchell followed Sam up to the apartment, a two liter of Pepsi in his hands, a large pizza box in Sam's. The elder teen unlocked the door and let him in, mentioning to him that he needn't remove his shoes.

"Go ahead and take this in there," Sam said, nodding toward the living room. "I'll grab our drinks and stuff, go ahead and get comfortable."

The blonde grabbed two glasses, filled them with ice, and joined Mitchell in the living room. "You can sit on the couch you know," he joked. Mitchell blushed as he left the table and seated himself on the couch. Sam handed him a paper plate and a napkin, slid a drink over to him, and lifted the lid of the pizza box.

"Nothing like a fresh, supreme pizza," Sam said, inhaling the scent of the delicious food. "Dig in!" Before getting his own slice, he picked the remote off the table and turned the TV on to the local channel where  _The Glee Club Project_  was set to come on in just a few minutes.

The redhead took one slice and began to slowly eat it, whereas Sam took two slices and was already gobbling them up. "You better eat faster than that! I might eat it all," Sam joked. Mitchell grinned and started to eat faster.

"So, let me ask you something," Sam began, talking between bites. "When are you gonna loosen up some? Relax a bit? I mean, don't be so nervous all the time. I'm your friend, Rory's your friend, all the glee kids are your friends. You should feel comfortable, able to be yourself."

Mitchell opted to chew a little slower again, preferring to avoid an answer.

"You gotta stay under the radar at home, don't you?" the older teen asked. Mitchell nodded, pretending to be focused on the half-slice of pizza on his plate. "You may not be ready to come out at home yet, but around your friends, you can be yourself."

"I know. It's just hard to break out of the shell," Mitchell admitted. "That's why I think you and Rory are so cool. You guys aren't afraid."

Sam grinned. "Actually, at first I kinda was. I didn't know how anyone would react. I was always straight, dated a few girls in the club even, and then coming back to Lima I was kind of an outcast again. Everyone was too busy. Except Rory. He wanted to be my friend right away, and he seemed so confident, even under his shy façade. He just…he's so smart, and mature, and brave."

The redhead smiled, blushing. "He is. He's really brave. And real smart and—" he stopped himself as he realized he was gushing over the boyfriend of the man sitting next to him.

"You like him, don't you?" Sam asked, cocking his head.

"Oh no, no, no! Not like that!" Mitchell said, dropping his plate in his lap and putting his hands up in defense. "I just really admire him a lot! Like a hero or role model."

Sam grinned and gave the kid a playful nudge with his fist. "That makes two of us, dude. He's my hero, too. I just get the added bonuses. I bet you'll find a guy someday though. A nice guy who makes you feel comfortable with yourself."

"I hope so. I kind of want a geeky kind of guy, but strong so he can keep me safe from the bullies. But I wanna play video games with him, and sing and card games and stuff. The stuff nerds do," Mitchell admitted.

"Haha! You just described me! Except for the cards," Sam laughed. "I'm gonna keep a look out for someone like that, and if I see him, I'm giving him your number."

Their playful banter was cut short as the theme music for the show began, both of them shifting focus to the screen, watching as the host gave a recap of the previous episode, and then the title cards with each contestant's name flashed one after the other. Rory's card showed him arms confidently crossed, and a bright smile on his face. It was set against a green gradient background, his name in gold flashing letters at the bottom.

They watched intently as the second and third days of the competition were flashed before their eyes in the span of an hour. Day two was themed after adaptability, where the cast members were allowed to choose three songs, and from those three, they would be mashed together, forcing the contestant to adapt to the new tune without faltering. It was a particularly hard challenge, especially since the shifting was done randomly, and the contender had no idea when or where the changes would occur. The melodies would simply begin to overlap, and they had to be ready when the new song picked up.

"That is  _really_  hard!" Mitchell commented as they watched. Several of the contestants were struggling with it. "There's no way I could do that, I can barely manage one song at a time."

"You aren't joking! I'd get mixed up and fall all to pieces. I can handle a mash-up, but not this," Sam agreed. They went silent again as Rory was up next.

Rory had made the decision that not only would he need to overcome the challenge of the assignment, but he needed to show the judges he wasn't going for the easy route. He had a feeling it would hurt him if he chose songs that flowed into one another easily, so he spent a good hour picking his three songs. By the time he was done, he had selected "In the End" by Linkin Park, "Ava Adore" by the Smashing Pumpkins, and "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga. That was a mixture of soft rock, alternative, and pop.

By the time he had to perform, the teen was regretting his bold choices, but having practiced all three songs over and over all day long, even in his head during lunch and breaks, he managed the shifts smoothly. The only critiques the judges had was that he be more aware of which songs he selected, as not all of them were suited to his deep bass-baritone voice. The pop song in particular was what they felt needed work, and by the end of the session, he had been in fourth place, nowhere near in danger of elimination.

The third day was based on dancing ability. As soon as the host made the announcement of the theme, Sam swallowed hard. Dancing was something both he and Rory struggled with, and he could only hope and pray that there was at least one person dramatically worse than his boyfriend. He didn't have any room to talk, however, as his own dancing suffered just as much, if not more. As luck would have it, there were two people who were much worse, one of whom could barely stay on his feet. He fell twice, tripping over his own limbs and landing in a heap on the stage. Sam thought in amusement that Mike Chang would be screaming his lungs out at the TV in agony if he were watching this.

At the very end of the episode, the host declared what the next pair of topics would be: vulnerability, and sexuality. The announcer claimed that the contestants were going to be put to the test in their emotions and skill at being sexy. Fortunately, Rory was just fine with emotions, and Sam had no doubts whatsoever that he could pull off being sexy. As far as he was concerned, Rory took first place in the sexy department.

-ooo-

Blaine sat in his bedroom watching TV,  _The Glee Club Project_  playing. He was happy to see his friend doing so well thus far, even if looking at him brought forth the memory of what had happened.

The young man had still not told his boyfriend about the incident with Rory because he was too afraid of how Kurt would react. Kurt was highly emotional, often overreacted, and the fact that he was hundreds of miles away didn't help the situation. Blaine knew, however, that the longer he waited, the harder it would be, and there was no way on earth he could keep it a secret. It would eat at him until he went mad.

As the show ended, Blaine smiled, picked up his phone, and typed in a quick message to his friend.

_Just saw the show. You're doing amazing! Keep it up!_

-ooo-

Rory stayed sitting in his chair after everyone was dismissed from the morning meeting explaining what the new assignment was-vulnerability. They had to choose one of the most emotional moments in their lives, their most vulnerable moment, and express it through song and props. They didn't have to tell the story; it was the underlying emotions that had made them feel vulnerable that were important.

Andrew sat down next to the teenager, smiling softly. "You know you were dismissed fifteen minutes ago, right?" he asked playfully. Rory snapped out of his daze, suddenly aware of the other man.

"Oh, oh I know. I was just thinking," the teen said. "This is a hard assignment."

"Don't you have any moments in your life where you were emotionally vulnerable? Distraught?" the man asked. Rory looked over at him and smiled meekly.

"Yeah, I do. Three that really stand out, all in the past year and a half," the boy answered. "They aren't exactly things I want to remember though."

Andrew offered him another friendly smile. "Well, you're going to have to remember at least one of them. You don't want to go home yet, do you? I don't want to see you go home. You're really talented, and it'd be a waste to see you leave because you had trouble with this assignment."

Rory was silent a moment. Dare he ask this stranger's opinion? Andrew seemed nice, and genuine as well. "I just don't know which one to choose."

"Care to share? I can try and help you choose if you want," the coordinator offered.

"This stays between ye' and me, right?" Rory asked. Andrew nodded his head. "Okay, well, last year, around this time actually, I was attacked in the school gym. I was stabbed and beaten and could 'ave died if it wasn't for me boyfriend, Sam. I had ne'er been in such a state in me life. I was so out of it, I didn't know what was going on for a while. It took months before I fully recovered."

The young man's mouth dropped as he listened. He hadn't expected something quite like that. "Wow. That is definitely emotional. You were definitely vulnerable. Did it leave any permanent damage?"

"No," Rory shook his head. "Just a scar from the stab, on me shoulder. E'erything else healed after a while. Me family had to come from Ireland, and I had to put the boy who did it in jail. Well, in a home for boys. I didn't want to see his life ruined forever. E'eryone deserves a chance to make up for their mistakes."

"That's really noble of you," Andrew remarked, fascinated. He was almost afraid to ask him to go on with the second one, but urged him on.

Rory was amused by the irony of the next tale. It was caused completely by his roommate, all his fault for taking advantage of him. He decided it was best to keep the identity of the other party a secret.

"Me and Sam and our friends were at a party, and there was alcohol there. Another boy we knew made me a drink, but he put something in it and he tried to take advantage of me, but I stopped him," Rory said.

"Good, good for you. I'm glad you stopped him."

"On the way home, Sam and I got into an argument so I spent the night at me friend's house. In the middle of the night I walked home, still drunk and high and it was…it was like a trip down a tunnel of craziness. I only remember bits and pieces, but it was like I was a robot on autopilot," the teen explained.

Again, Andrew's mouth was agape. To be so young, this boy had already gone through so much in his life. "I wouldn't use that one. Just because of the underage drinking and the drugs. Even though it wasn't your fault, it might work against you if you bring that up to everyone."

Rory nodded in agreement. He wasn't exactly sure how Sebastian would react either if he uprooted the very event that had destroyed their brief friendship.

"The last one, me and Sam got in a huge fight at nationals. He yelled at me, said some really mean things. I ran away from the hotel, to a park to hide. Me friends found me anyway and helped me through it, and then Sam came to talk to me, and we worked it out. It was  _really_  emotional. I felt so lost and shocked and scared and-"

"Use that one," Andrew interrupted. "Never is someone more vulnerable emotionally than during a break up or fight with their loved ones. It seems to me, too, that Sam is your vulnerability." Rory looked at him like he was nuts. "I just mean that you place a lot of importance on him, and for someone to take that away, it's like taking a part of you away too. Even when it was Sam who yelled at you, you wouldn't have gotten so upset and scared and lost if he didn't mean so much to you. Yes, I think this is the perfect example to use."

"Do I 'ave to tell all that though? I don't want to embarrass him like that."

"Oh no, you don't have to tell the story itself, remember? Hmm, come on, let's go somewhere private and I'll help you. I don't want anyone to see me giving you so much help," the coordinator said. "People might think it's cheating and I don't want to ruin your chances at winning." Rory smiled at him and got up, following him to another room where they could be by themselves without prying eyes or ears.

_Maybe this assignment won't be so hard after all,_  the teen thought.

-ooo-

Sam invited Mitchell over to his parents' house to watch the next episode of the show. The children took to him instantly, Stacy whispering to Sam that he was almost as cute as 'Mr. Rory'. She eagerly sat next to him on the floor, offering to share her bowl of popcorn with him. Sam could hear his parents giggling like school children as they observed their little girl's antics. Sam had to snatch handfuls of popcorn away from his brother, who was more protective over his own bowl, not wanting to share with his brother.

This episode was to focus on vulnerability, a topic Sam was a bit worried about. Rory was an emotional guy, even though sometimes he kept it inside. Sam had to wonder exactly what Rory would consider his vulnerability and how he would choose to display it. The first thing that came to mind was the attack, but that in itself wasn't so much emotionally vulnerable as it was physically. That left Sam at a loss for what Rory would choose.

Stacy and Stevie cheered when Rory appeared onstage for his turn to perform. Kevin asked him to give a short intro about his selection before he began.

"I chose this song because it reflects a situation that happened with a loved one. I will be singing from their perspective, with slight alterations to the lyrics," Rory announced. His voice sounded sad. "It's by Linkin Park and it's called  _Leave Out All the Rest."_ He said one last thing before he began. "I'm sorry."

Sam's heart felt like it was caught in his chest. In that moment he knew that Rory's song was somehow related to their relationship and after a moment's more thought he realized with a sinking feeling that it could only be one thing—nationals.

_I dreamed you were missing_

_I was so scared_

_But no one would listen_

_Cause no one else cared_

_After my dreaming_

_I woke with this fear_

_What am I leaving_

_When I'm done here?_

_So if you're asking me_

_I want you to know_

_When my time comes_

_Forget the wrong that I've done_

_Help me leave behind some_

_Reason to be missed_

_And don't resent me_

_When you're feeling empty_

_Keep me in your memory_

_Leave out all the rest_

The words cut into Sam like a knife. Sure enough, Rory was singing from Sam's perspective the night he yelled at him. Beads of sweat formed on Sam's brow as he flashed back to some of the horrible feelings he had experienced during that miserable night. Rory was 'missing' and Sam was scared. If he didn't find Rory, he couldn't leave him behind. And he begged Rory for forgiveness. He begged him to forget his wrongs. Sam had to admit, the lyrics were perfect.

_Don't be afraid_

_I've taken my beating_

_I've shared what I made_

_We're strong on the surface_

_But not all the way through_

_I've never been perfect_

_But neither have you_

_Forgetting all the hurt inside_

_You've learned to hide so well_

_Pretending someone else can come_

_And save you from myself_

_I can't be who you are_

By the end of the song, traces of tears stained Rory's cheeks, the young man having maintained his composure the entire time he sang.

Sam's own face had traces of tears, the words having hit him like a rock, but he knew that he deserved the ache. He deserved the hurt. He snapped out of his thoughts when his mother put her hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle rub.

"What's he talking about, honey? Is it about you and him? Something happened with you two?" the woman asked.

Silence.

"Sam?" she asked.

"I need to go home. I don't feel well. I didn't eat much today, maybe that's it," Sam lied.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans traded confused stares. Something had definitely happened between Sam and Rory at some point and it was eating at their son whatever it was. To their dismay, he wasn't sharing what it was, either.

Sam stood up, hugged his parents and siblings, and then headed for the door. Mitchell thanked them for letting him come over, with Stacy eagerly inviting him to come back. Stevie snickered, later on poking fun at her for having a little 'crush'.

When they got in the truck, the silence was awkward. Sam was sniffling, apparently trying to keep himself from crying outright. Mitchell sat in his seat, staring down at his lap. He couldn't think of anything to say that might comfort his friend, and it seemed rude to pry, but…

"Uhm, Sam? I know it's none of my business or anything, but are you okay?" the redhead asked meekly.

Sam cleared his throat. "That song… it was perfect. It was absolutely perfect," he whispered.

Mitchell nodded, staring over at his friend, hoping for him to elaborate.

"Last year at nationals, Rory got stuck in an elevator and nobody knew where he was. I got worried and when he appeared after being rescued, I didn't even let him explain. I yelled at him," Sam admitted. "I… I was mean. I said some rude things and he ran away, upset. I had to go find him. Everyone else helped. Santana even slapped me for being that way, which says a lot. She really doesn't like Rory at all. She is one of the seniors that graduated last year. If you ever meet her, watch out because she has that stereotypical Hispanic firecracker personality."

Mitchell chewed on his lip, surprised at this admission. Sam didn't seem like the type to ever yell at someone, particularly Rory.

"Blaine and Kurt finally found him in the park. Blaine convinced him to talk to me, and I apologized. He actually forgave me. He shouldn't have, but he did. I've felt guilty about it ever since, even though he insists it's behind us. I guess it isn't."

"I…I don't think he chose it to be mean. I think he chose it because it was emotional. Because he felt vulnerable at the time. Sad and alone and scared, out in the city with his boyfriend angry with him. I think that's why he chose it," Mitchell offered. "He didn't say it was you, though. Nobody has to know it was you."

Sam chuckled. "Anyone with a brain knows it was me. Everyone in glee club knows it was me. Even my parents guessed it. I couldn't admit it to them though. That I hurt Rory. Even if it is in the past," he added.

"He said he forgives you though, right?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. He says that. He gets irritated if I bring it up and start guilting myself."

"Maybe it's time you forgave yourself."

"Huh? What do you mean?" the blonde asked, confused.

"When we do something wrong to someone, we feel bad about it. Even if the other person forgives us. If they can forgive, why can't we forgive ourselves? We can't really put it in the past if we don't, right?" Mitchell explained. "If you keep feeling guilty about it forever, you never move past it. But if you forgive yourself, you can leave it behind because then it's been completely resolved. He forgave you and if you forgive yourself, then there's nothing else to worry about, right?"

Sam thought hard about that. It made sense, in a strange sort of way. He looked over and considered Mitchell for a moment. He said a silent prayer for the boy, wanting nothing more than for him to find a loving boyfriend, just as he had found for himself.

-ooo-

Rory sat in the break room, the area the contestants would stay while they waited for their turn to perform, and after. He sat on a large sofa, looking down at his feet, trying not to cry. When he finished his performance, he knew at that moment that his words were hurtful.

At first it was just an assignment. He was excited to choose a situation and a song, had practiced it over and over, and hadn't really thought about the repercussions. It wasn't until he stood on stage that it hit him, hence the apology before he sang. He prayed that Sam would forgive him, that nobody else would know what he was talking about, that they would assume it was something that happened back in Ireland.

"You look upset. Bad performance?" Rory looked up as a familiar face smiled at him, Sebastian. The Warbler sat down next to him, wrapping his arms around him in a friendly hug. "It doesn't mean you'll be cut. Someone else is probably going to bomb way worse."

Rory half smiled. "Thanks. It isn't that though. I think I did fairly well. I just hope the song I chose, and the situation it related to..." He paused a moment before continuing. "I hope it didn't hurt someone."

"Sam. Yes, of course. A fight I assume," Sebastian said nonchalantly. "I'm sure he will understand it was only for the assignment."

"I hope so. I don't like hurting people," Rory replied softly.

"You didn't mind hurting me a little," Sebastian joked. "Of course I guess I deserved it."

Rory looked up at the boy. Sebastian had a genuine kindness in his eyes, an apologetic look on his features. "It's in the past. We'll ne'er be friends, Sebastian."

"I know. It's best that way. We'll never mix. Your kind and mine. We're from different worlds. You and Sam, Blaine and Kurt. You come from a place where you're loving and kind, caring. Me? I come from a place of… well, it isn't important," Sebastian lamented. It was an overly dramatic confession, but it was actually an admission from his heart—something he very rarely ever did with anyone.

The Irishman was appreciative of Sebastian's attempt at being civil, at being comforting. For once it seemed like honest concern. However, Rory was still skeptical, and insistent that he wanted nothing to do with the boy if he could avoid it.

-ooo-

Sam laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head. All he could think about was the song, the memory of what had happened back at Nationals. But then he thought about Mitchell's advice, that he needed to forgive himself. Sam fell asleep before he could decide what to do, however.

_Sam and Rory stood back-to-back in the middle of the park_ _, the moon shining through the trees, the ground slightly damp from the dew._

_The blonde was silent, staring at the ground, eyes closed. Rory was looking forward contentedly, his hands clasped in front of him._

" _What are we doing here, Sammy?" the teen asked softly. "We left here a year ago. We left e'erything here. It's all in the past. I told ye'."_

_Sam looked up and opened his eyes. "I brought us back here, to remember."_

" _Remember? Why do ye' want to remember this night? It was a mistake, one we moved past," the younger teen declared._

" _I think I brought us here to remember, because I want to be forgiven."_

_Rory smiled, let his hands drop. He reached back and took Sam's hand lovingly. "Sammy, ye' came for me. That's all that matters. Ye' came, it's all okay. I forgave ye' a long time ago."_

_Sam shook his head. "No, I want to be forgiven, by myself. I want to forgive myself."_

" _Then why bring us here? Leave it in the past, where it belongs. Forgive ye'rself and let's go home, where_ we _belong."_

_Sam smiled. "Yeah. You're right. This is all in the past. It was a stupid mistake, but everyone makes those. We say we're sorry, and then we move on. That's what I want to do."_

_Rory chuckled. "So say it, silly. Say ye' forgive ye'rself and let's go home."_

_Sam leaned his head back, staring up at the moon. "Sam, I forgive you. I forgive me. I want to let it go."_

_As both boys smiled, they started to turn to face each other when they faded away, leaving the past where it belonged, and going home, together._

When Sam awoke the next morning, he took his dream to mean that it was time. To make it as real for himself as possible, he stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself. "Rory forgave me a long time ago. It's time to forgive myself. Now I do. I forgive you, me," he said, looking deep into his own eyes.

Feeling satisfied with himself, Sam smiled. He felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He hadn't expected that, but it made sense. He had been carrying the guilt of the situation ever since it happened, the emotions weighing down on him like a boulder. But once he let it all go, the rock was gone. No more guilt.

Before he even got in the shower to get ready for the day, Sam went to the bedroom, picked up his phone, and typed out a short message.

_I miss you. I love you. You're doing amazing. Great performance last night. One of your best so far. Xoxoxo_

-ooo-

_I guess he isn't mad at me,_  Rory thought as he read the text message.  _I guess he figured out I didn't choose it to hurt him._

Despite the fact it was only eleven at night, Rory decided to go to bed instead of staying up with some of the others. The weekend was theirs—catch up on school work, hang out, whatever. Well, whatever they wanted within the confines of the hotel. Luckily for the contestants, there was an indoor pool, a gym complete with a half basketball court and exercise equipment, and a large game room with arcade games, billiards, table tennis, and air hockey. They also got all the room service they wanted in regards to food and drinks.

Rory lay on his side, trying to will himself to fall asleep. He was exhausted but his mind was racing, worrying about what would come up in the next week. They were down to himself, Sebastian, Unique, Joe, Sunshine, and Harmony. Only six left, three men and three women. Monday they would be rid of another, then one on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, leaving Friday for the final showdown. Two singers, only one prize.

Just as the teen was starting to drift off, he heard the click of the door—Sebastian was coming in. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," the Warbler apologized. "I'm pretty tired myself. I think I'm going to call it a night."

"I guess we're the two old men of the group, asleep before midnight," Rory chuckled.

"Maybe. I think Sunshine and Joe were calling it quits, too. Knowing Unique and Harmony, they'll be partying into the early morning," Sebastian replied. He stepped into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and then stood aside his bed. He had the courtesy not to turn the light on, but Rory's eyes had adjusted to the dark well enough to see Sebastian stripping down to his underwear. He couldn't help but admit to himself that Sebastian was a handsome young man, with a very nice body, but his personality and lack of morals tainted him. Sebastian would  _never_  live up to what Sam was. Sam was everything Sebastian wasn't, and that was a good thing.

"Good night, Rory," Sebastian said softly, climbing into the bed and pulling the covers over his half-naked body.

"Good night. Nice dreams," the Irishman replied. Sebastian was on his side as well, but he was facing Rory, something that made him feel uncomfortable. Rory turned over on his other side, adjusting the blankets to make sure his back and rear were well covered.

-ooo-

Sam hadn't talked to Blaine much since their conversation at the Lima Bean. He had yet to feel completely comfortable acting as if nothing happened. Despite that, he found himself texting his friend, inquiring about if he had told Kurt yet or not.

_Yes. Not good._

Sam scrunched up his face. Part of him wondered exactly what happened, but part of him almost felt like Blaine deserved whatever happened. He quickly pushed that thought out of his head—he wasn't a vengeful person and he wasn't about to start.

_Wanna talk about it?_  Sam replied back. It was several minutes before he got a response.

_No_ _._   _Thank you though_. That was it. 'No'. That didn't sound good. Deciding to respect his decision, he replied one more time with an offer to lend an ear if and when Blaine was ready to talk about it.

-ooo-

_Earlier that day:_

Blaine stared at his phone as if it were something foul and disgusting. He had put off calling Kurt long enough, but every time he thought about it, he felt sick to his stomach. Kurt was very emotionally driven, and at times was known to overreact.

The phone began to vibrate and play a song— _Teenage Dream_ , the song he had sung when he and Kurt first met. It stabbed him in the heart as it played on, but it was time. No more excuses for putting it off. Kurt was calling and there was no way he could keep from telling him. Reluctantly he picked up the phone and slid the button over to answer.

"Hey," he said simply. His voice was laced with anxiety and sullenness.

"That doesn't sound good," Kurt said. "I was just calling to say hi since I had a few minutes between classes. It's been a while since we got to talk outside of text messages."

"Yeah, I know. I miss you," Blaine replied. "I miss you a lot. So much."

Kurt took a deep breath. "Blaine, what's wrong? Your voice sounds…sad."

Kurt wasn't prepared for what came next. In a flurry of tears and apologies, Blaine came out with it. "Kurt, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, it was a total accident, I swear. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry for  _what_?" Kurt asked nervously. "Blaine, what did you do?"

"I…I kissed Rory!" he blurted out. "I'm so sorry! It was an accident, we were sitting there on the couch and I was thinking about you and how much I missed you and he reminds me a lot of you and I just leaned over and kissed him and-"

"You kissed Rory!? What the hell is wrong with you, Blaine!? Are you insane?" Kurt cried. He was already choking up as the news seeped into his heart. "How could you? How could you do that to us? To them?"

Blaine was sobbing harder at this point, barely able to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It was a mistake, I was thinking about you so much and I was so lonely and sad and all I wanted was to see you…"

"So you kissed the next best replacement? You missed me so much you kissed another guy. Damnit, Blaine!"

"Kurt I…" but no words came to the former Warbler's mouth. His throat was dry, his head hurting. Kurt was still going off on the other end of the phone but the words were a blur, all mixing together.

"Are you even listening?" Kurt demanded sharply. "Or are you sitting there thinking of someone else? What's going on in your head, Blaine?"

Blaine was still sobbing, feeling sick. "I just want you Kurt! I can't take this, this you being there and me being here. Being away from you all the time…it feels like I've been left behind and you're going ahead with your life without me when we should be going forward together…I just want to be with you, Kurt."

The phone was silent for several minutes, Blaine beginning to wonder if Kurt had hung up on him. Kurt finally broke the silence. "You should have thought about that before your lips touched another guy's. I think we need a break. We're obviously not ready for this long distance thing."

The words hit Blaine like a Mack Truck. Everything began to feel hazy. The world was spinning. His eyes went dry, his breath heavy. "Kurt I…"

"We're on a break, Blaine. Use the time to think about things. There's a lot to sort out," the college freshman declared. "I have to go. I still love you, but you need to think about how much you love me and how you feel about Rory apparently."

"I'm sorry. I love you, Kurt."

"Bye Blaine," the boy said, hanging up. Blaine tossed the phone on the bed before running to the bathroom. He fell to his knees and vomited in the toilet, heaving until there was nothing left in his stomach, and even after.

By the time he had finished revisiting his breakfast and lunch, his throat burned like fire and his head felt ready to explode. He stood up, went to the sink, and turned on the water. He rinsed his mouth out, splashed cold water on his face, and then retreated back to his bedroom. He threw himself on his bed in a fetal position, sobbing harder than he thought possible, clutching a pillow and smothering his despair. Part of him hoped he really would smother himself, but another part was determined to go on, to try to deal with things.

An hour later he received a text from Sam, asking if he had told Kurt. He gave him a simple reply, and then declined his invitation to talk. He had no right to talk to Sam about this, no matter how upset he was. It was his own fault, his own burden to bear. He had no choice but to keep it to himself and work through the problem himself.

Thinking about how alone he was, how he would have to make this right, alone, he began to cry again. He stayed curled up and cried until he fell asleep, his face buried in the pillow, muffling the sadness of the young man who felt like he had just lost everything dear to him.

-ooo-

"Lunchtime boys and girls!" Mrs. Evans shouted from the back door. Stevie took advantage of the distraction to take a dash at his brother, slamming into him, and stealing the football right from his hands.

"Ow! That hurt, dude! Vicious much?" Sam howled in feigned agony as Stevie took off with the ball and tossed it behind his brother, the pig skin whizzing by the man's head. "Now you're trying to launch a missile at my head! What'd I do?"

"You're the opposing team, he's supposed to tackle you," their mother laughed. "Wash your hands, lunch is ready," she directed, eyeing her two youngest children. Stacy grinned and gathered up her supplies—she had been drawing pictures while the boys played football.

The trio came inside, washed up and sat down at the table. Mrs. Evans had prepared hot dogs and macaroni and cheese, an Evans children's favorite. The two boys gobbled theirs down mercilessly while Stacy took her time.

"You can't go back outside until you see my pictures, okay Sammy?" the little girl declared. "I drew a bunch of them!"

Sam smiled at his sister. "Okay, show me after we finish eating. I can use a little break from the Cowboy over here."

"I am  _not_  a Cowboy! You  _know_  I like the Redskins!" Stevie replied, pursing his lips in irritation. Sam gave him a smirk in return.

After eating, Stevie ran back outside, a boundless ball of energy. Mrs. Evans handed Stacy her drawings off the counter top where she had put them when they came inside. The little girl sat next to her brother, ready to show her artwork.

"This one's you and Stevie playing football," she said, showing him the top picture. "I'm the cheerleader, see? I got pigtails and ribbons, just like Quinn did," she added.

Sam smiled at her. "You're much prettier than Quinn," he said. "The most beautiful girl in the world, Stacy."

"Aww Sammy, you're making me shy!" she cooed, blushing at the compliments. She cleared her throat, refocusing their attention. She set the first picture aside and revealed the next one.

"This one's Mr. Rory on the stage," she informed him. "Do you like the blue I used for his eyes? His eyes are  _really_  pretty Sammy. Bright and shiny like water."

Sam smiled again. "Yeah, you picked a great color. Looks perfect." Upon closer examination, he began to pick out more details she had included. "Wow, you even have the microphone, stage lights, even people in the audience."

The girl beamed, eating up the attention. She pointed at Rory's lower half. "Look, I even remembered his…uhm what is it? It's not a belt or a necklace but it's kind of like a… like some sort of jewelry, right Sammy?"

"It's a wallet chain. It's so he doesn't lose his wallet. It hooks on his belt loop. You could say it's an accessory, like when you wear your hair ties for your pigtails. They're an accessory," he explained. "That's really good attention to detail though."

"I got one more! I want you to put this one on your refrigerator," she exclaimed, setting aside the second drawing. "I worked on this one all week!"

A tear came to Sam's eye as he looked at the picture. It was Sam playing his guitar, Rory standing behind him with his arms wrapped around his waist. It had incredible detail, from strings on the guitar to buttons on Sam's shirt, to the rings on both boys' fingers.

"Do you like it Sammy?" Stacy asked anxiously. "I made mommy and daddy stand like that and took a picture so I had something to look at."

"She wouldn't tell us what it was for," Mrs. Evans piped up as she was washing dishes. "She just said it was really important."

Sam ran his fingers along the colored pencil faces, his lips turning up in a sad smile.

"Sammy? Do you like it?"

"I love it, Stacy. It's  _perfect_. The best picture you've ever done," he said. The little girl cheered excitedly, hopping up to hug her brother, who pulled her onto his lap. "You're such a good artist. Some people my age can't draw a stick figure."

"Thanks! I try really hard because I want to be able to draw pictures for your albums," she explained. "I want to draw real pretty beaches and people so you can put them on the covers."

Her brother hugged her tighter, nuzzling his chin on her head. "I'd be honored to use your artwork. By the time I get my own album, I bet you'll be even better than Michelangelo."

"The Ninja Turtle?" Stacy asked, contorting her face in confusion.

Sam and his mother both chuckled. "No, no, not the turtle. Michelangelo was one of the best artists ever. He painted one of the most famous chapel ceilings in all of Rome," he replied, hoping his historical references were correct. Even if they weren't, she would understand his point.

"Wow! That would be awesome!" she said. "I'm gonna keep trying real hard so I can be even better than him,  _and_  the turtle!"

With that, she hopped up off of Sam's lap and gathered the other two pictures, which Mrs. Evans took from her to put on their own fridge. "Stacy? Thank you for the drawing. I really love it, and I know Rory will too. I'm going to frame it, so nothing ever happens to it."

The girl went wide-eyed, happy that he considered her work worthy of framing. She squealed in delight as she took off to her room, most likely to search for inspiration for something else to draw.

"She stayed in her room all week working on that. She wouldn't let us see or anything. She covered it up if we came in the room. She even skipped out on her TV shows a couple of days. That's saying something—you know how much she loves  _Spongebob_ ," his mother said, drying her hands and sitting next to him at the table.

"I really am gonna frame it. She did a great job. I bet nobody else's little sister can draw like that," Sam said, his voice laced with sadness.

Mrs. Evans cocked an eyebrow. "Honey, you've seemed down all day. You were way too quiet watching cartoons, you didn't even seem focused on your football game. And you sound sad right now. What's wrong?"

Sam gave her a half smile. "Mom, I'm so confused," he admitted. She cocked her head, a signal for him to go on. "I love living with Rory, on our own. Our own place, just me and him. But…I miss you, and dad, and Stacy and Stevie. It feels like something's missing without you guys around."

His mother forced back a tear of her own and ran the back of her hand across her son's cheek. "That's part of growing up, I'm afraid. Leaving the nest. It isn't easy when you have a close relationship like we do. We're very lucky. But it makes it so much harder, I know," she said in a comforting tone.

"It just feels so weird. Eighteen years of you taking care of me, giving me what I want. Making sure I had clothes and food and toys. I never went without anything, even when we were poor," he replied. "Now I have to do everything on my own. Well, almost everything. I make Rory keep up with our money. I'm terrible at math."

"When me and your dad decided to have children, we vowed to make sure you never wanted for anything. We wanted our kids to be the happiest they could be, without being spoiled brats. I think in the long run maybe it does make it harder for you, but Sammy, you're a grown man now. Did you ever really think about that?"

The teen seemed to drift into a daze as he spoke. "A grown man. Not quite. You still pay the rent. At least you don't have to buy me toys anymore though."

Mrs. Evans scoffed. "Oh please! Your toys just got more expensive as you got older. That guitar you love so much, for example," she giggled. "You  _are_  a grown man, honey. Even if we are helping you out, you're out of the house, you have a full-time job. You pay bills. You've started a family of your own. It's just you and Rory right now, but it's a family still. Someday you might want kids, or at least a pet. You're a man, Sam. Don't ever doubt that."

Sam, the grown man, hugged his mother, never wanting to let go. When he finally did, she kissed him on the forehead. "I think you're just thinking about this because you miss him. Rory. You have all this extra time on your hands to think."

"Maybe. I think being back here, with you guys, has made me realize how much I miss it all. I guess it all just happened so fast, growing up. One day I'm a goofy teenager with no worries, and the next I have an apartment, a boyfriend, and a job."

"And you manage all of them wonderfully, honey," the woman said, grinning. "Maybe you just need to visit more often. I think more for me than for you," she added. "It isn't easy on us either. We've had to adjust, too."

Mr. Evans came in, not intending to interrupt an intense heart-to-heart chat. "What's with all the sentiment in here? You're killing the party buzz!" he said playfully. "Speaking of parties, we were thinking…"

"Oh God, that's always dangerous!" Sam interjected.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Mr. Evans asked, feigning offense. "Anyway, we were thinking that on the big night where we find out that Rory won, because we know he will, we have everyone over."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, everyone. Your friends, and anyone else you want to invite. It doesn't have to be a big family event like the holidays, just us and your friends," his father verified.

Sam's face lit up. "Wow that would be awesome!" he exclaimed. "I could invite the whole glee club! Well, all that's left anyway. Tina, Artie, Sugar, Blai-" He paused when he started to say Blaine's name.

His father gave him a knowing look when Mrs. Evans wasn't paying attention. "And Blaine?"

"Yeah, Blaine, and Mitchell too. And my friend Robert from work, and Michelle. Michelle would castrate me if I didn't have her over for this," Sam replied. "Shoot, maybe Miss Pillsbury would want to come, too. And Rory's friend from work, Ginny."

"What about Mr. Schuester?" his mother asked curiously.

Sam hesitated. "Well, uhm, Rory told me something happened with him. He left McKinley and is working at Dalton now, coaching the Warblers."

His parents were both shocked. "What!?" they cried in unison.

Sam nodded his head. "Yeah. I guess Figgins axing the glee club was too much for him."

"But what about this competition? Doesn't he have any confidence that Rory will win and guarantee you a spot at nationals?" Mrs. Evans asked.

Sam bit his bottom lip. "Well, see, nobody told him. It was supposed to be a surprise, so nobody said anything to him. I doubt he'd want to come since we're the opposing team now."

"That's a shame. Mr. Schue has been with you guys since the beginning. Well, at least for as long as you've been there. He did a lot for you kids. All of you. I can't believe he just up and left like that," his father said.

"Maybe there's things going on behind the scenes we don't know about, dear," Mrs. Evans pointed out. "He may have needed the money, and I'm sure Dalton pays more since it's a private school. Or maybe he even got into it so bad with Figgins he got transferred out or quit or who knows."

"I just wish he would have told the club first. Said goodbye properly. It's like he gave up. Just ran away," Sam said, starting to sound a little angry. "It's cowardly."

Mrs. Evans gave him a calming stare. "Now honey, like I said, there's probably a lot more to it. He isn't obligated to tell anyone anything, even though it  _is_  a shame he didn't give a proper goodbye. Maybe he just thought it would be too painful."

"I guess. At least they can get Miss Pillsbury to be their sponsor. They have to have one to compete and I know she'll do it. She'd do anything for the glee club. Even if it means competing against Mr. Schue. Even if she isn't the most experienced, Tina, Artie and Blaine have been in glee club since they were freshman. I'm sure they can help her."

"That's a better attitude, honey," his mother praised.

"I always liked that woman. She's very sweet, like your mother but with this weird obsession with hand sanitizer," Mr. Evans noted. "I bet she'll come through. Go ahead, son, invite her if you want to."

Sam smiled. "I think I will. I guess I have some phone calls to make. I don't want anyone to be making any other plans. I want  _everyone_  to be here."

"That's the spirit!" his father exclaimed. "You can tell Michelle she can stay overnight if she wants to. She might be too tired to drive back home late at night."

"Thanks, dad, mom," the teen said, hugging them both. "I'll get to it. Then I better get back outside before Stevie wears himself out. I owe him some good tackles."

With that, Sam left for his old room for privacy to begin calling his friends one by one. He decided to bite the bullet and tackle the most difficult call first. Blaine.

-ooo-

Rory decided to take advantage of the free time they were given to go down to the pool and do some swimming. He hadn't done any in a long time, not since moving out of the Evans' home. He wasn't sure if he would have time for the swim team this year either, what with work and glee club.

He entered the large room that housed the pool. On one wall was nothing but glass that looked in on the gym so that everyone inside could also look out into the pool area. The ceiling was all glass, letting the sunshine in, and the far wall was also pure glass, with a view of the courtyard. All around the pool were lawn chairs and small tables.

A few of the other contestants had the same idea as Rory. Unique was lying out on one of the chairs, a Kindle in her hand, a drink on the table beside her. He waved at her and gave a friendly smile. She bid him a good morning and went back to reading her novel. Joe and Harmony were in the gym—Harmony on the treadmill and Joe lifting weights. Sunshine and Sebastian were the only ones absent.

Rory set his towel down on one of the chairs and took off his shirt, laying it on top of the towel. He did a couple of stretches and then jumped in the pool. Despite being indoors, the water was still lukewarm, sending slight shivers over his skin. Once he started doing laps he would warm up.

The pool looked to be Olympic size, so he was able to gauge his laps easily. Taking a deep breath or two, he perched against the edge of the pool and pushed off. It took a couple of laps before his body warmed up to it—he was out of practice after all. He took a short break before doing several more.

After a total of twenty laps he was tired. A hot tub was on the far side near the glass wall looking outside and it seemed to beckon to him. He lifted himself out of the water and sat on the edge a moment, catching his breath. He didn't hear anyone walk by, but he suddenly felt a towel wrapping around his shoulders.

Rory looked up to see who was there. "Sebastian, hi," he said, thankful that he was wrapped in the towel, blocking Sebastian's view of his body.

"I just saw the last few laps. You're fast. Impressive," the teen said, holding out his hand to assist Rory to stand.

"Thank ye'. I'm out o' practice since moving in with Sam at the apartment."

"A spectator would never know," the Warbler teased. Rory felt the boy's eyes roving over him, looking at his legs and up toward his chest. He pulled the towel tighter around himself, feeling exposed. "I came down to get in the Jacuzzi for a while. Want to join me? I'm sure it would feel good on your aching muscles." As he said 'aching muscles', he reached over and gently squeezed Rory's shoulders in a weak massage.

Rory pulled back. "I'd like to, but I need to work on me schoolwork for a while. I don't want to get behind and I 'ave some reading to do," he lied. In reality, he had very little to do. Some math homework, a little bit of history, and a short composition for English. Altogether it shouldn't take him more than three hours—he had plenty of time to do it, but he just wanted to get away from Sebastian.

"That's a shame. I'll finish up mine later. I might bring my work down here and at least have a nice view while I study," Sebastian stated. "If you change your mind, I'll be down here for a while. I could use some cardio in the gym, too. Oh, and they have a sauna if you're interested."

"Okay, well, I better get on up to the room so I can get started. I'll see ye' later," Rory said quickly. He shuffled over to the chair and dropped the towel, pulling his shirt back on and hurrying out of the pool area.  _I'll just have to settle for the hot tub later, when he's busy._

-ooo-

Rory sighed as he waited in the elevator, annoyed with Sebastian.  _Why does he have to look at me like that? It's creepy. Like he's undressing me with his eyes._

The elevator stopped, letting him off at his floor. With his luck, he was surprised he hadn't gotten stuck in the elevator with Sebastian the same way he had with Puck the year before at nationals.  _I don't even want to think about what Sebastian might try if we were stuck in an elevator for hours. He'd probably try and rape me._  He shuddered at the thought. The very idea of rape, let alone being raped by Sebastian, was chilling. Especially when he thought about just how close he had been with that exact situation once before.

Rory slid his card in the door, letting himself in. If he couldn't use the hot tub in privacy, the least he could do was have a nice hot shower to ease his aching arms and legs. He picked out a fresh pair of clothes and took them into the bathroom, turned on the water, and undressed while he waited for the water to heat up.

For a few minutes he simply stood there, letting the hot steamy liquid fall on his shoulders, down his back, and toward his legs. He started to hum a tune to himself as he massaged his shoulders one at a time, digging his thumbs into the muscle to work out the cramping. He was so engrossed in his task and his humming that he didn't hear the door to the room open and shut.

Sebastian grinned to himself. Rory was in the shower, and the boy wasn't expecting an interruption for a while. He very quietly, gently, tested the doorknob to the bathroom. Unlocked.  _Tsk tsk, so very careless, Rory! An unlocked door means you_ want _to be seen, doesn't it?_  The Warbler was getting tired of the façade he was keeping up—the whole remorseful for his previous actions, wanting to play fair and call a truce. The truth was, he felt absolutely no regret for trying to get into Rory's pants before, and if given the chance, he would certainly attempt to seduce him again, albeit without chemical influence.

The teenager slid off his shorts and shirt, standing only in his trunks. The way his underwear hugged his figure, it left nothing to the imagination. Every curve of his ass, every bulge of his crotch, everything was easily visible.  _I'll just walk in and pretend I didn't know he was in there._

It was a lame plan, he knew, but it was all he had. If he could at least get a peek at his quarry it would be worth the feigned embarrassment. If he could catch a glimpse of what Rory was packing, he could determine if it was even worth pursuing anymore to begin with. Sebastian was definitely a size queen.

Sebastian casually opened the bathroom door, singing to himself. The more innocent he could pull this off, the better. It made things all the better for him that the shower had a sliding glass door, and the glass was  _not_  frosted or patterned. It was plain, and despite the steam, he got a very nice view of exactly what he wanted to see.

His view didn't last long, however, as Rory quickly realized he had been intruded upon. "Sebastian! Get out o' here!" the boy shouted. Realizing there was little he could do to save his dignity, he opted to cover his crotch with both hands, backing up against the wall.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize—" Sebastian began, pretending to be surprised.

"Oh bollocks! Ye' knew I was in here, the water was on!"

"I don't know what you're so worried about anyway, Rory. You shower in gym class. All those other boys see you naked all the time. What's the difference?" Sebastian asked smoothly.

Rory narrowed his eyes. "It's not the same! They don't stare at me the way ye' do, and they aren't gay, either!"

Sebastian scoffed. "They may not be out, but I can assure you at least one in ten of them is gay as a box of birds. Trust me, Rory. Boys look at each other, size each other up, check each other out. Straight or gay. It's only natural. Don't tell me you aren't looking at me."

"I'm not!" Rory protested. "The only man I want to see naked is Sam! And he's the only one who can see me! Now get out o' here, and lock the door behind ye'!"

"I guess there's no hope in sharing your shower then," Sebastian said mournfully. "Oh well. At least I can take my turn when you're done." Before he opened the door, he made one last comment. "You have nothing to be shy about, by the way. Your body is perfect, and you don't look like you're lacking either."

The Irishman's face was red with anger and embarrassment. As soon as the door was shut—which Sebastian didn't bother to lock as requested either—he rinsed off the soap from his body, turned off the shower, and wrapped himself up in a towel. He dried off, got dressed, and left the bathroom, ready to give Sebastian a proper thrashing.

Sebastian sat on his bed, still in his underwear, typing on his laptop. Rory looked at him angrily. "I thought we agreed to be civil while we're here! I thought we were going to 'ave some respect. Was that all a load of crap?"

Sebastian smiled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to admire your body, and if you were up for it, join you in the shower. I didn't think it would happen, you're pretty attached to Sam."

"Yes, I am! And don't ye' forget it! Ye' don't need to be admiring anything! Ye' had no right to walk in on me like that."

"Like I said, it's no different than a locker room. I've seen plenty of men naked in the locker room. You know the hardest part? It isn't trying to maintain composure in front of so many hot men. No, it's having to see the disgusting ones as well. The fat ones with next to nothing between their legs. The ones with more hair on their body than on their head. The ones with sores and—oh you get the point," Sebastian explained. "I just wanted a peek. I wasn't going to do anything, I promise."

"In the interest of bein' civil, I'll let it slide, just this once. But don't ye' ever, ever try that again. And put on some clothes, I don't need to see ye' in ye'r underwear all the time," Rory protested.

Smirking, Sebastian got up and pulled on a pair of shorts. "I'll be taking my shower now. You're free to observe, if you wish. After all, I did get to see you. The door will be unlocked if your curiosity… or something else… is aroused."

Rory rolled his eyes and moved toward the desk.  _I can't believe he did that! Jerk! I better not tell Sam, though. He might he angry and try to hit him or something. I might just let him this time. It_ is _Sebastian after all. He kinda deserves it after all that crap last year. I shouldn't keep that in my heart though. All that hate. Church is right, hate taints me soul. Doesn't mean I can't be pissed he spied on me though!_


	43. Episode 43: The Glee Club Project, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Here it is, the first chapter of 2013! I hope everyone had a great new Year's, survived the Mayan Apocalypse © and I hope you all have a great and prosperous year. In other news, check out my buddy TVTime's finished up work What I Want as well as his new Niff series!  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: TVTime**

**Recap:**  Sam and Mitchell shared some quality time while Rory stayed busy with The Glee Club Project sharing an emotional song relating to the previous year's nationals debacle. Even though it hurt, Sam was finally able to put his guilt in the past and realize that Rory had already forgiven him. Blaine finally told Kurt and Kurt broke up with him. Sam spent more time with his family, remembering how much he missed being a teenager while Rory had to deal with Sebastian coming on just a little too strong and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 43: The Glee Club Project, Part 3**

Rory didn't have anymore issues with Sebastian the rest of the weekend for the most part. The boy did strut around in their room in only his trunks as if he were displaying himself, trying to catch Rory looking at his package. Finally on Sunday night, Rory confronted him about his behavior.

"I thought we were on good terms. Ye've been acting so weird the past couple o' days," Rory stated.

Sebastian shrugged. "I don't know what you mean. We  _are_  on good terms, aren't we? I haven't done anything to you, I haven't tried to sabotage you or anything. What more do you want from me, Rory?"

"How about some pants, for starters," Rory answered. "When we first came here, ye' were a different person than ye' were before. Ye' were nice and friendly, but didn't 'ave that… devious attitude. Now it seems like ye'r acting how ye' used to."

The Warbler huffed as he sat on his bed "I wanted to earn your trust. I thought the only way to do it would be if I acted the way  _you_  wanted me to. Or at least how I thought you would want me to. I just can't do it anymore though. It's not me."

"Why would it matter if I trusted ye' or not? Why does it matter what I think of ye'?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I fancy you, Rory. Quite honestly, I'm not used to  _not_  getting what I want, so it's a bit frustrating you know," Sebastian admitted. It was the most honest thing he had ever said to the boy, or to anyone for that matter.

"Ye' know I'm with Sam. I'm happy with Sam," Rory replied confidently. "Even if I weren't, I don't think I could e'er be with ye'. Not the way I've seen ye' act before."

Sebastian stared at him. "I could give you the world, Rory. I could give you so much more than Sam ever could. I have the means to give you the lifestyle you know you should be living. None of this small time apartment crap."

Rory's eyes flared up with anger. "Don't talk like that! Sam gives me e'erything I want, and I'm perfectly happy in our apartment! See, what ye' don't understand is that ye' can't buy people's love and respect. I doubt ye' even know what love really is. I'm not saying that to be mean, either."

"Where do you get off judging me like that? What right do you have to say I don't know what love is?" Sebastian demanded, standing up.

"Ye' can't possibly know what love is if all ye' 'ave to offer is money and  _things._  I feel sorry for ye', Sebastian. Ye' won't find love if all ye' do is try to buy people."

Before Sebastian could respond, Rory stood up and headed toward the door. Before he walked out, he turned and left Sebastian with a single thought. "Ye' know, ye'r a pretty decent guy when ye' aren't trying to manipulate or buy people off. I really do hope ye' find love someday. E'eryone deserves that."

As soon as the door shut, Sebastian buried his face in his pillow and let out a primal scream of frustration and anger. Rory's words cut like a knife—they were far too true, and Sebastian knew it. He didn't want to admit it, but it was something that had always been at the forefront of his mind. Fortunately enough for him, it wasn't something people focused on, so he could forget about dealing with it if he wanted to. Rory throwing it in his face so willingly, however, was something he could do without. The thing was, he didn't know any other way and he had grown so accustomed to manipulating people and getting what he wanted. Nobody said 'no' to Sebastian Smythe. Nobody but Rory, apparently.

_Fuck it. I won't get that boy. It's a lost cause. He's not gonna change me, either. I like the way I am. I have money, and I have power. He's just too stupid to see it. Fuck you, Rory. I don't need your judgmental attitude. Now I'm all the more determined to win this thing. Just to show him up._

-ooo-

When Rory returned to his room later, he found that all of Sebastian's things were gone. The closet was empty, his toiletries were missing, and his laptop was nowhere to be seen. He had just seen the other teen at dinner, so he wasn't gone.  _I must have made him angry. I bet he paid them to change his room. Wouldn't surprise me. I guess that means I have the room to meself now. I can relax a bit._

Surveying the room closer, he found a handwritten note on the desk, in writing so fancy it could almost be considered calligraphic. Surely only Sebastian would be so eloquent as to have penmanship such as that.

_Rory,_

_I've changed suites. You have the room to yourself._

That was it. He didn't even sign it with his name. The short and pointed sentences assured Rory that he had indeed pissed Sebastian off, something that left him slightly unnerved. Up until this point, he had felt confident that the two of them could compete with mature and fair consideration, but this sudden change in Sebastian's attitude left Rory wondering what was going to happen next. Surely Sebastian wouldn't quit, and he hadn't, judging by the changing of rooms and not just checking out. What Rory  _did_  fear was the monetary influence the wealthy Warbler had. In a world where money talks, he had just made a dangerous enemy who may very well try to buy off the judges, or worse.

_Oh well, nothing I can do about it. At least now I can talk to Sam and not have that ass listening in._

Excited over his newfound privacy, he quickly called up Sam's name on his phone and waited while it rang. Finally it connected.

"Rory?" came Sam's unsure voice.

"Sammy!" the boy exclaimed. "Yes, it's me! I miss ye' so much!"

On the other end Sam wasn't smiling yet. He knew the rules—the contestants were supposed to stay out of contact with family and friends during the competition to avoid spoilers getting out. Of course that was completely based on the honor code, and it was written in the contract they signed that they would abide by it. In other words, if they were caught, or if spoilers  _did_  get out, the contestant responsible would be disqualified.

"Is everything okay? I thought you couldn't call…" Sam asked nervously.

"We aren't supposed to, but I 'ave the room to meself now," Rory replied. "Sebastian went to another room."

Sam chuckled. "Did your snoring chase him off that badly?"

"Hey! I don't snore! And no, he just switched out. All the note said was that he changed rooms and this one is all mine."

"Hmm," Sam mumbled. "You better watch your back. He's up to something. I trust him about as much as I trust a dead goose."

It was Rory's turn to laugh. "Trust me, Sam, I'm keeping a watch on me back and me front. I'm  _not_  goin' to lose this competition. Not now, when I've gotten this far."

"That's the spirit!" Sam exclaimed. "Hey, guess what? Mom and dad are letting me host a party at the house next weekend, for the finale. I'm inviting everyone in the club, even Miss Pillsbury, and of course Michelle. I don't know which of you would kill me first if I forgot her."

"That sounds fun! I wish I could be there," Rory said.

"No you don't, because if you're here, you lost. Which is  _not_  gonna happen. We're gonna gather around the TV and watch you win it."

Rory smiled. Sam's enthusiasm and support were amazing. The man had no doubt in his mind that the teenager could succeed and save the glee club. Just thinking about that was more than enough to keep him going when it seemed just too hard.

"Sam, I miss ye'. A lot. The others are great, but it's lonely here, too."

"Trust me, I miss you a lot too. I've been spending a lot of time with the family though. I didn't realize just how much I missed them all," Sam lamented. "Like mom said though, it's just part of growing up."

"I think we're doing great, don't ye'? I mean, we 'aven't messed anything up bad, we pay our bills and stuff. I think we're growing up just fine," the teen replied.

"Yeah. We're doing great. It just takes getting used to being away from them all."

Rory mumbled something in response and they both remained quiet for several moments. Finally, Rory broke the silence.

"Sam… ye' know, I 'ave total privacy now. Nobody to come in. I'm all by meself, sittin' on me bed…"

"Oh, well, I guess I should let you sleep then," Sam said, missing the point.

"No, Sam. I said I 'ave  _total_  privacy now. Nobody can come in. I'm here, all  _alone_ , on the phone with ye', and I'm sitting on me  _bed_ ," Rory repeated, innuendo lacing his voice.

Sam was clueless. "Well yeah, I know it's lonely without me, but-"

"Oh Sammy, ye' can be so dense sometimes!" Rory blurted out. "Put the pieces together like a puzzle. Me. Alone. Privacy. On the bed. On the phone with me boyfriend. Under a lot o'pressure. Maybe needin' a little stress relief and all."

"Ohhhhh," Sam replied. "I knew that," he joked. "No, really. Okay, maybe not. So uh, I never really did the phone sex thing before…"

Rory rolled his eyes. "It's not phone sex, it's just talkin' to each other while we touch ourselves."

"Sounds a lot like phone sex to me," Sam argued playfully. "What's wrong with Skype? Or are you too old fashioned for that?"

Agitated and horny, Rory sighed in frustration. He was already boned up just from hearing his boyfriend's voice, he hadn't cum in close to two weeks, and now Sam was worried about semantics. He did have to admit though that it would be so much hotter watching Sam pleasure himself on camera. "I didn't think about that. Get ye'r laptop and I'll get mine. Send me the invite once ye' get set up."

After an assurance from Sam, they hug up the phone while both boys got their laptops set up for a Skype session, positioning them in such a way that they could see one another. As agreed, Sam sent the invite.

"Take off ye'r shirt," Rory instructed with a devilish smile. Sam grinned and slowly stripped off his shirt, tossing it aside.

"Your turn," Sam replied. Rory obliged him and shed his shirt as well. They continued slowly undressing back and forth until they were both nude and staring at each other's bodies through the cameras.

"I miss ye' so much, Sam," Rory stated. "I miss ye'r hands on me, and ye'r lips. I love when ye' kiss me," he went on, his hands slowly rubbing his chest.

Sam shrugged off the slight bit of foolishness he felt and started to touch his muscled torso as well. "I miss kissing you. I'm going to kiss you until your lips fall off when you get home."

The Irishman giggled saying nothing as his hands roamed down further, letting out the faintest little moans. Sam was more engrossed in watching his boyfriend than actually doing anything himself until Rory reminded him he was supposed to be joining in the activity.

They didn't say anything else, just watched through the cameras as they stroked themselves, letting out light mewls and moans as waves of pleasure were going through their nerves.

Rory was first to crash, biting his lower lip to keep from crying out as his orgasm overtook him, the buildup of almost two weeks without release suddenly surged through his dick, his seed shooting in rivulets onto his tummy and chest. The scene was all Sam needed to go over the edge himself, making just as much of a mess on his end of the session.

Spent, they both laid in bed, breathing heavily, watching each other until they were about to fall asleep.

"I need to clean up and go to bed. I needed that so bad. Stress relief," Rory said airily. "Ye' should get to bed, too. Or at least clean up."

Sam grinned. "Yeah, I'm just a bit sticky. I think a shower is in order. This was fun, though. I think I needed it, too."

They exchanged a few more minutes of affection before signing off with their 'I love yous'. Sam went to take a shower while Rory collected some tissues and then went to the bathroom to flush the evidence. He pulled his boxers back on and crawled into bed, feeling completely drained, but happy.

-ooo-

_You have to be shitting me,_  Rory thought as the partner assignments were given for the next round. Harmony and Sunshine. Unique and Joe. Rory and… Sebastian.  _Why him, of all people? It's like they knew we were having problems with each other._

Rory let himself glance over toward Sebastian, who cut his eyes at him rather harshly.  _I'm a professional. Okay, I'm not, but I'm going to act like one. A real performer would just do it and get it over with. Remember, this is for the glee club. This is for my friends. Sebastian's just another challenge._

"I guess we just can't get away from each other, can we?" Sebastian said sarcastically, standing in front of his new partner.

Rory stood up, facing the other singer. "I guess not. Let's just do it and get it o'er with," he said confidently. After a moment, his tone softened. "Ye' know, we don't 'ave to be like this. We can still be civil."

"I am. Why do you think I switched to another suite?" the Warbler replied. "The temptation is far too great if I'm in the same room with you. Isn't it obvious I can't help myself?"

The Irishman scratched his head. "What's so important about me, Sebastian? Ye' can 'ave any guy ye' want. Ye'r handsome, nice when ye' wanna be, a talented singer. So why me?"

"Believe it or not, it's not as easy for me to find something real as you may think. I've had many, many trysts, but I've come to actually feel something for you. You just refuse to return the feelings, and dammit, it kind of…"

"Hurt ye'r feelings?' Rory offered, raising an eyebrow.

Sebastian pursed his lips disapprovingly. "Yes. Yes, it hurt my feelings. There, I said it. It's out there."

Rory put his hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I just don't like ye' that way. I'm with Sam, and I'm happy. Ye' need to move on, find someone else."

The other teen huffed. "I told you, it's not easy for me to find something of substance."

"If ye' want substance, then ye' need to stop sleeping around. Other people see ye' going home with guy after guy, and they don't respect ye'. Ye' go to clubs and parties and look for someone to 'ave sex with, but ye'r looking in all the wrong ways."

"That's enough talk about this. It comes down to the fact that you're not interested, and I'm not happy about it. Right now we just have to work together for this stupid assignment," Sebastian declared. "Let's go somewhere quiet to pick out a song."

_It's not me he wants, it's a relationship. I wish he'd get over me and start looking for someone else to take my place. I don't see what's so great about me anyway,_  Rory thought, following his partner to one of the empty conference rooms.

-ooo-

Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan checked the time on their computer, anxious to find out what exactly Sam needed to talk to them about so badly. Earlier, the American had sent them a text message asking if they could have a Skype session.

"Aye, there he is!" Mr. Flanagan exclaimed as Sam's name lit up onscreen. Seconds later an invite came up, to which he pressed the 'accept' button. They saw Sam's smiling face come up on the screen.

"Hi, guys," Sam said, waving to them.

"Hello!" Mrs. Flanagan replied. "Is e'erything alright?" she blurted out. "Ye'r smilin' so I'm guessin' e'erything's okay."

Sam nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Nothing's wrong at all, I promise."

"Then why the urgency, Sam? We enjoy talkin' to ye', but I must admit, this is the first time we've 'ad a chance t'talk alone. What's on ye'r mind?" Mr. Flanagan asked, relieved that there was nothing wrong, despite the mystery still unsolved.

"I wanted to talk to you guys about a couple of things. Well, a few, actually," the teen said. "Rory's competition finishes up this weekend. My folks are hosting a party for all of our friends to come watch. It's gonna be a blast, even if Rory can't be here. I was wondering, if my friend Artie can figure out a way to do it, would you want to watch the finale with us? I know you didn't get to watch the rest yet, but the finale is live, so it'd be extra special if you got to watch it too."

"That would be grand!" Mr. Flanagan exclaimed. "How are ye' gonna make that work?"

Sam scratched his head. "Well, see, that's where Artie comes in. He's a genius for the most part, and if anyone can figure out how to get the program to you live, he can do it. It means you'll have to stay up extra late though. It'd be around one AM your time. But I know it would mean a lot to Rory if he knew you and Seamus were watching him win."

"We'll be able to make it happen, Sam. Seamus will be thrilled t'find out he gets to stay up late," Mrs. Flanagan replied. "Your confidence in our son is so wonderful. Ye' talk like ye' 'ave no doubts he will win."

"That's because I  _don't_  have any doubts, Mrs. Flanagan. He'll win this and save the glee club so they can go on to Nationals, and maybe even win that, too."

Sam relayed to them Rory's progress thus far in the contest, telling them the assignments and his song choices and critiques. Rory's parents cooed back and forth over the report as they got the cliff notes version of events.

"What else did ye' want t'talk t'us about, Sam?" Mr. Flanagan asked.

"Well, you know how last time we talked, I mentioned Seamus coming for a visit?"

"Aye, we do. We're givin' it some thought m'boy," the elder assured him.

Sam nodded. "Well, I wanted you guys to know that it would mean a lot if you did let him come visit. He'd be fine, my parents aren't far from here, and we've watched my siblings plenty of times. If he came during our spring break, Rory wouldn't miss any school, and there would be plenty of things to do."

"Aye, aye. I'm sure he'd be safe. We just worry about him travelling alone more than anythin' else," the man replied. "Imagine sending ye'r brother n' sister off t'another country by themselves."

"I understand, sir. I just really wanted to make sure you knew it wasn't just a random idea, that it's something we really do want to do. His first visit here was so awful, it'd be awesome to show him the fun stuff this time." Sam tried to read their faces as they just smiled and nodded contentedly. "And I'll even make sure he goes to mass on Sunday."

"Aye, ye' drive a hard bargain! Listen, Sam. I promise, we will give this some serious thought. We'd like for Seamus to go too; it'd be a great experience for him. How about ye' e-mail us the dates for ye'r spring break and some ideas that ye' want to do and we'll look it o'er," Mr. Flanagan said.

Sam smiled. "Yes, sir. I'll send you the dates right away."

"So was there something else ye' had to talk about? Ye' said ye' had a few things to discuss," Mr. Flanagan asked next.

The teen bit his lip nervously. His entire demeanor went from confident and excited to edgy and unsure.

"Sam?" Mrs. Flanagan urged. "What is it?"

"I…I know it's still several months away, but the summer…I mean, Rory's supposed to go back to Ireland again, right?" Sam asked.

Mr. Flanagan raised an eyebrow. "Aye. Why?"

"Well, I uh, I won't make the decision for him or anything, but uhm…"

"Go on Sam, ye' can talk to us," Mrs. Flanagan assured him. "We're all adults, 'ave it out."

The American swallowed back his nerves. "Right. Well, I know it's a huge thing for you guys and for Rory, but would it be okay if we all left it up to  _him_  whether he goes home for the summer or not?"

Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan paused and looked at each other gravely. They both knew this conversation might arise, but hadn't expected it to come this soon. It was obvious however, that the couple had discussed this very topic before.

"Well Sam, ye' see…." Mr. Flanagan began.

-ooo-

Sebastian's first suggestion for their performance was Erotica, by Madonna, but as soon as Andrew heard them talking about it, he nixed the idea, pointing out that the song was entirely too much for teenagers and cable TV.

"But Andrew, the assignment is sexuality. How else are we supposed to be sexual without sexual music?" Sebastian asked.

"That's the idea, Sebastian. Find a way to express sexuality without being raunchy and overt. Be sexy, but don't push it. If you go too far, the judges will frown upon it. Trust me," the coordinator insisted, his voice stern. "Try something else."

"Prick," Sebastian said under his breath as Andrew walked away. "They want sexy without sex. That's like wanting a mixed drink without alcohol."

Rory chuckled. "It just means we 'ave to be a little more clever." The wheels were already spinning in his head as he desperately searched for a way to have a performance with Sebastian on stage that portrayed sexuality without going overboard.

-ooo-

Sam felt as if a load had been taken off of his shoulders after finishing his conversation with the Flanagans. They seemed to be leaning more and more toward allowing Seamus to visit, and the discussion about Rory staying in America or returning to Ireland in the summer went better than he thought.

Despite his contented feeling, loneliness started to settle in yet again. It was late, however, so going out was out of the question. He made it a personal rule not to call people after eight, particularly if it was on a night before work. He didn't feel like texting anyone, either.

Sighing, he heated up a pizza in the oven, one of the frozen ones they had bought during the last grocery store trip. The food supply was getting low; Sam would need to go to the store before Rory got back. He also wanted to give the apartment a good cleaning since clothes were littered about the bedroom floor, dishes were piled in the sink in the kitchen, the garbage needed to go out, and the vacuum hadn't been run since before the younger teen had left.

When his pizza was finished, the teen took his plate and glass of juice and plopped down on the couch, kicking up his feet as he took the remote from the coffee table and started to flip channels. As he scrolled through, he wondered what Rory was doing right at that moment.

-ooo-

Having finished the performances, the group of contestants were enjoying their dinner as they anxiously awaited the results from the judges. Rory and Sebastian had put on quite the show, going with a rock version of "Tainted Love", playing a couple that had broken up.

The sexual element of their performance came in the form of suggestive dancing, Sebastian fawning over Rory, drawing his hands over him, tracing lines over his chest, pressing close together. The Warbler tried to be clever and go in for a kiss, however Rory shoved him away in time with the song, turning away and smirking. They did a lot of 'eye fucking' as Sebastian put it, using looks between them to convey the sexual tension. The entire image was accented by the fact that Rory wore a tank top and tight pants, while Sebastian sported jeans that were tight enough to be painted on and an open shirt, held closed by only two buttons.

It was Joe who was eliminated that night, his very religious background giving him problems coming across as sexy with his partner. Their performance was awkward and choppy, with a poor song choice and the only thing that kept Unique in the game was the fact that she still managed to portray a level of sexiness despite Joe's lack thereof. Rory silently giggled, as while Joe was a nice guy, he was overly preachy and his dread locks were an eyesore and tended to have an oily odor about them.

Before bed, Rory sent Sam a text message.

_When you see the new episode, please don't be mad. It was just the theme and we didn't get to pick partners_

He waited nervously for Sam's reply, knowing full well that the older teen was not going to be happy about the entire assignment or performance.

_Sebastian I bet. No kissing right?_

Rory rolled his eyes.

_Of course not! It's all an act and to be honest as soon as it was all over I had to sit backstage with a bottle of water and me head between me knees to fight off the nausea._

It was Sebastian's touches that set him off. Rory powered through the rest of the song, but as he told Sam, as soon as it was over he retreated backstage where he did what he could to stave off the impending sense of vomiting.

_I love you._

That was Sam's reply, a simple declaration. He knew then that Sam was upset, but he had wanted to tell him about it before the episode aired on TV and he was watching it with his family.

_I love you too. Almost over!_

As a final measure of purity, Rory showered before bed, washing away any remaining 'aura' of Sebastian that might have been left over from their close contact. The most unfortunate part of the ordeal was that Sebastian was a very handsome guy, but his manipulative, condescending attitude destroyed any kind of attraction. It made him all the more thankful for Sam and his selfless and genuine personality.

-ooo-

Sitting in his chair, his eyes glued to the TV screen, Rory couldn't have been more nervous for an airing. He even passed on dessert because he worried he might make himself sick from worry. The sexuality episode was airing, and by the end of the night, only he, Sebastian, Unique, and Harmony were left. Joe was ousted during the sexuality assignment, and Sunshine the following assignment.

Meanwhile, Sam sat on the floor, his brother and sister on either side of him, a large bowl of popcorn in his lap while all three of them greedily took fistfuls into their mouths. Mr. and Mrs. Evans sat back on the couch, giggling at their children.

By the time the show got to the actual performances for the sexuality assignment, Sam's stomach was in knots. He knew he wasn't going to like what he saw, but he repeated in his head,  _It's just a show_ _. It's not real_.

The first to perform were Joe and Unique, the most awkward pair ever known to exist. Unique saved herself only by her own dancing, Joe sinking the ship all on his own. Even the children were having fits of laughter at how uncomfortable the pair seemed to be.

Next up was Sunshine and Harmony, who's performance was a throwback to the infamous kissing scene from Cruel Intentions, except they never kissed. Instead they sat on the stage, with a fake picnic set up, all of the sexuality poring from their eyes, and with gentle touches on their hands and arms. It was incredibly erotic considering that neither girl was a lesbian, nor did they actually touch past hands, arms, and shoulders, and their faces as they touched fingertips to cheek.

Stevie immediately asked if the two women were special friends the way Sam and Rory were. Sam explained that he doubted they were special friends offstage, but that women do indeed have special friends just as men did. Satisfied with the answer, he peered over at Stacy as if waiting for her to comment on the idea of two girls together. When she stayed silent, he went in for the kill.

"Stacy'll never have a special friend like that!" Stevie teased. "She's too much in love with Mr. Rory!"

"I am not!" Stacy yelled back angrily. "Mr. Rory is Sammy's special friend! That's why I think he's terrific! He makes Sammy happy! So there!"

"Alright guys, enough. Knock it off," Mr. Evans said firmly. Sam grinned at their banter as it was obvious that Stacy did indeed seem to have a little hero worship of a crush on his boyfriend. Sam made a mental note to relay the event to Rory later, who would find it hilarious in his own right.

After the commercial, the announcer went on to declare the next pair—Sebastian and Rory.

-ooo-

Rory's palms began to sweat and he felt his chest tighten. The song was about to start and he and Sebastian were going to be 'eye-fucking' all across the stage, for all the area to see. It was bad enough he had to do this at all, but so soon after Blaine's kissing incident, it was just all the more rubbing it into Sam's face. He shifted hie eyes over to peer at Sebastian. The Warbler was sitting there, smirking between bites of cheesecake that he suggestively ate from his fork.

-ooo-

Sam gritted his teeth as he watched the screen. The eroticism going on between his boyfriend's eyes and Sebastian's was enough to drive him into a rage, but the moment Sebastian put his hands on him, albeit just coming up behind him and touching his sides, it was all Sam could do to maintain composure. His hand was shaking his fist was so tight. All he wanted to do was punch the screen.

Feeling himself on the verge of an outburst that he didn't want his siblings to see, Sam got up and marched from the room, heading for the bathroom. "Let me know when it's over," he said angrily. He slammed the door behind him, grunting in frustration.

"Daddy, what's wrong with Sammy? It's just acting, right?" Stacy asked, her eyes wide with concern.

"It's acting, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean it's easy for Sam to see Rory dancing with someone else," her father replied.

Stevie crossed his arms. "I think that guy looks like a jerk!" he declared. "Look at his eyes, they're all beady and stuff!"

Mrs. Evans giggled. "Oh you don't even know what that means," she laughed. "He's probably a very nice boy."

"He's snaky, with beady eyes and something looks wrong with him. I don't like him," the little boy insisted. "He shouldn't be dancing with Mr. Rory."

"That's right!" Stacy agreed. "I wanna go beat him up, but he might hiss at me!" she giggled. The two children went on back and forth with each other, plotting Sebastian's demise. Mr. Evans got up from his seat, nodding to his wife. She gave him a slight smile back, understanding his hint. He was going to see Sam.

Mr. Evans knocked lightly on the bathroom door. "Son? You decent? Can I come in?" he called.

"Yeah," was Sam's sharp reply. His father opened the door, stepped inside and shut it behind him. Sam wasn't crying, but his face was red and he was visibly angry and bothered.

"Son, I know it isn't easy to see him dance with another guy, but it's all acting. I'm sure the other guy has a boyfriend or girlfriend of his own back where he lives," Mr. Evans said, putting his hand on his son's shoulder.

Sam glared up at him. "That bastard doesn't have a boyfriend. He's too much of a douche to have a boyfriend."

His father raised his brow. "I take it you know this guy then?"

Sam huffed. "Yeah. I know him alright. I'd like him to know the back of my fist but—"

"Calm down, Sam. No violence, remember? Why don't you tell me what the deal is with this kid. There's more than just dislike going on here; I can tell."

The teen rubbed his temples, having developed a headache. He took a deep breath and then relayed the story to his father. "He was trying to be friends with Rory, but he kept making moves on him, and we went to a party one night, and there was drinking, and that guy put the date rape drug in Rory's drink. He tried to fucking rape my boyfriend, dad."

"Language, kiddo," Mr. Evans cautioned. "He didn't…"

"No!" the teen replied sharply. "Sorry. No, he didn't. Rory pushed him off and Blaine and Kurt took us home. It was that night when Rory had that hangover you were fussing at us about."

Mr. Evans nodded his head knowingly. "Gotcha. I can see why you hate this kid then. Why didn't you report him to the police? Date rape is a serious thing, son."

"I know. But there was all that underage drinking, and we were all just kind of scared and freaked out, and we weren't thinking straight," Sam replied.

"Son, you haven't been thinking 'straight' since you started dating a guy," Mr. Evans joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam chuckled. "Dad, you are too much. I meant-"

"I know what you meant, I just wanted to get a laugh out of you, make you feel better," his father said. "Anyway, I'm not gonna give you some long lecture about underage drinking and partying. All I'm gonna say though is that when it comes to you and Rory, your safety is most important. If anything else ever happens that threatens your safety or your health, ask for help. Your mom and I are here for you both, and even if you do end up with an hour long lecture, we're gonna do our best to keep you boys happy. You got me, son?"

"Yes dad," Sam replied with a smile. "Thanks. Rory thanks you too."

Mr. Evans chuckled. "All right, you know me and the mush, let's get back in there so we can see him win the round, okay?"

The teen nodded, standing up and giving his father a hug before they went back to the living room to see the judging.

-ooo-

As soon as the episode was finished airing and the final announcements of the day were given, Rory headed right up to his room and grabbed his phone. He already had a text from Sam.

_Good shove. You plan that, or did it just come natural?_

Rory grinned. It sounded like Sam wasn't too upset. Instead of typing out a response, he pressed the call button, his boyfriend answering seconds later.

"It was both," the brunette announced right away. "We planned me to push him back, but it just came to me. Couldn't help meself. Did ye' see it all?"

"About half. I couldn't stomach the whole thing. Watching my boyfriend dance like that with another guy was kinda crappy. On a happy note though, Stevie thinks the bastard looks snakey with beady eyes and Stacy wants to beat his ass," the older teen laughed. "With those two around who needs a bodyguard?"

"No kidding. Ye' didn't tell them anything about the party did ye'? They're a bit young for that," Rory asked.

Sam chuckled. "Hell no. They just don't like him because he's dancing with my man. What can I say, they're protective of their big brother."

"They're wonderful, Sammy. I hope we 'ave two just like them," Rory joked. Sam stammered out a nervous mumble in response. "I'm kiddin' ye'!"

"I knew that. Uh huh, I knew it," Sam said, wiping his brow on the other end. He loved Rory, but the idea of kids was scary.

They talked for a little while longer before Rory was ready for bed. The long days were tiring him out, but there weren't very many left. Friday they would find out the final two competitors and then Saturday was the big showdown. He wondered who the other person would be. He felt confident that he would make it to the final two—his reviews from the judges had all been favorable thus far. Unique would be the toughest person to beat, he decided. She was just as her namesake said—a unique individual with a lot of talent and personality to match. Of course Sebastian would be an equally dangerous opponent. The only one he didn't fear was Harmony, because despite her great singing voice, she had received several negative reviews, mostly regarding her overly animated way of performing. She went to the point of almost comical. Yes, it was Sebastian and Unique he feared.

-ooo-

Blaine looked up from his calculus textbook as his phone vibrated on his desk. He hadn't gotten much in the form of communication since the big kissing incident and even less since telling Kurt. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw it was from Sam.

_Party at my folks place Saturday evening for the big finale. I want you to come._

It didn't appear to be a group message, so it was definitely sent to him specifically. Sam had said he wanted to try to move past things, even if he was still mad. Maybe this was their chance to give it a shot.

_You sure?_

A few seconds later, another reply from Sam.

_Hell yeah. Can't miss this, Rory is gonna win! Everyone will be there, and food! Lots of food! Come on, please come_

Blaine smiled at the phone. It would be a good time to work on normalcy again. It would be a group setting with plenty of people, so nothing should be awkward at all. There wouldn't be pressure to talk about what happened, it was just something fun to celebrate Rory's impending victory.

_Okay, I'll be there._

-ooo-

As Rory had predicted, of the final four Harmony was the first to go home. Her overly-animated style worked against her, making her performances come off as overeager and fake. Kevin pointed out to her that what people want to see is something genuine, as well as talented singing and dancing. They want to feel like the performance is passionate, not over the top. She took the advice in stride, despite breaking down in tears afterward, in the privacy of the unoccupied conference room.

Unique was the next to go. She was told that unfortunately, she too came across as over the top at times and would benefit from toning down her image. She was more suited to solo performances or duets, in the same vein as Lady Gaga, because like her, she has such a strong stage presence on her own. Unfortunately that meant she wasn't as well suited to a group setting. Kevin in particular was disappointed to have lost to the majority in the voting, because he felt that Unique could truly bring something fresh and new to the table of show choir, as well as help other transgender students become comfortable in their own skin. He spoke with her after the final judgments, agreeing to help her in educating others about transgender issues.

That left Sebastian and Rory as the final two.

-ooo-

"Somehow I had a feeling this would be how it ended up," Sam commented as the credits began to roll. "Clash of the titans."

"Clash of the what?" Stacy asked, screwing up her face.

"Titans. It's like a big, big monster!" Stevie exclaimed. "They're made of mud or something."

The little girl's eyes went wide. "What's that got to do with singing?"

"It's an expression, honey," Mrs. Evans said, putting her hand on her daughter's shoulder to calm her. "It just means that it's a showdown between the two best contestants."

"Ohhhh," Stacy said, nodding her head slowly. "Well, that other boy is gonna be mud once Mr. Rory is done with him. He's gonna squash him into mud pies!"

Sam smiled at his sister. The little girl had so much spirit, so much confidence. He could only imagine what she was going to be like as a teenager.

"Okay kids, it's time for bed. You can stay up all through the party tomorrow, so you need to get your rest tonight," Mrs. Evans stated, eyeing each of her youngest children.

"Okayyyyy," Stevie mumbled. "Goodnight Sam!" he added, hugging his brother tight around his neck. He hugged his father and mother, the woman kissing him on the head.

Stacy kissed Sam on the cheek and hugged him. "Night night Sammy. Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite!" She kissed her father and mother as well, then trotted off to her room with just as much energy as if she had just woken up.

Sam got up off the floor, carrying the popcorn bowl to the kitchen. He yawned, ready to go home and get some sleep himself. He hugged his mother and bid her goodnight, then did the same to his father.

"I'll walk you out, son," Mr. Evans said. As soon as they were out of earshot of Sam's mother, Mr. Evans whispered to him. "Kind of appropriate huh? Rory facing off against Sebastian. He'll tear that kid a new one, and it's well deserved."

"Yeah, that's for sure. Sebastian deserves any kind of smackdown he gets," Sam agreed.

The teen got into his truck, pulled the door closed and rolled down the window. "I'm glad this is almost over. Being alone in that apartment is driving me nuts. I better do a big clean up before he gets home though."

"He as bad as your mom?"

"Yeah. He fusses at me every time I leave dishes in the sink or clothes on the floor. Ruthless I tell you," Sam laughed. "I guess someone has to keep me in line though."

Mr. Evans smiled. "Good night son. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Michelle's making one of her big fancy cakes for the party."

"Really?" Sam asked eagerly. "I wonder what she's gonna pull off this time. God, her cakes are so good."

"No kidding. She's an excellent cook. I'll never know why she can't hold on to a guy. You could always hook her up with Rory's brother in about ten years I guess," his father joked.

Sam gave him a look like he was out of his mind. "Dad, that's just…yeah, on that freaky note, good night."

-ooo-

Rory sat at the desk, his laptop in front of him as he watched the recap of the football games in Ireland. He wasn't even really paying attention. His mind was lost in amazement that he had made it so far, and wondering just what he would have to do for the final assignment.

His concentration was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. He got up and went to look through the peep hole. Sebastian. He didn't bother to open the door, hoping the boy would go away if he showed disinterest.

"What do ye' want, Sebastian? It's almost ten," Rory asked.

"May I come in for just a minute? Please?" came the Warbler's response, his voice calm and controlled. Rory sighed and unlocked the door, pulling it open.

"Fine. Come in," the Irishman said, moving back toward the desk, but not sitting down. "Ye'r in. What do ye' want?"

Sebastian smiled at him, and held out his hand. "I just wanted to say congratulations, and good luck." Rory looked at the proffered hand a moment, suspicious of its owner. Finally he reached forward and gave a firm shake.

"And the same to ye'," Rory said. He arched an eyebrow, not looking away from the other boy. "Is there anything else?" he added, trying not to sound annoyed.

"No," Sebastian said, turning to leave. Before shutting the door behind him, he turned, grinning. "One last thing, though. May the best man win, and if you ever get tired of that country hi-"

"Ye'd be smart to just quit talking now. If ye' finish that sentence, I might 'ave to act an arse," Rory cautioned, his glare turning cold. The Warbler smirked as he let the door shut behind him with a quiet slam. "Bastard," the teen said under his breath. "I'll show him. I won't lose to that arrogant arse."

-ooo-

The tension at breakfast was so thick, it could have been cut with a chainsaw. The two boys sat at opposite tables, facing away from each other. The judges and coordinators sat at their own table, observing.

"Either they're really intense competitors, or they just plain hate each other," Kevin said quietly. Andrew nodded, suspecting there was more to it than just competition or hatred. The boys had a history, but he had no idea what that history was. It was simply something he sensed from the way they interacted.

"Don't you think it's time to announce the final assignment?" Andrew asked, steering the subject away from the tension in the room. Kevin smiled mischievously as he stood up to call their attention.

He clinked a spoon against his glass for effect. "Okay guys, first just a quick congratulations to you both on making it to the final two. It's a big achievement in itself. This competition's been fierce, some of the best contestants having been eliminated, but you two have displayed talent surpassing everyone else," Kevin announced. "Now the hardest challenge yet, the  _final_  challenge. You will each sing three songs, of three different genres, three very different styles. We want to see if you can branch out from your comfort zones and truly 'wow' us. That means we need to hear a slow ballad-type song, a dance upbeat song, and something else unique. If we hear three songs that have the same type of melody—all three ballads or all three dance, for example—you can count on not making it."

Sebastian's face was blank, despite the nervousness he felt inside. He knew Rory was going to do something that would impress the judges, and he needed to do equally as well, and better. It was going to be hard, particularly selecting three very different songs.

Rory on the other hand actually had a look of relief on his face. Three songs made him feel better, the final result not relying on a single song. He already knew what dance song he wanted, and had a vague idea of some slow songs, but the hardest part was going to be figuring out what else to do.  _I can't rap. I don't think anyway. Hard rock maybe? I could maybe pull that off. Time to give my playlists a hardcore searching._

-ooo-

Mrs. Evans helped Michelle carry in the cake she had made. Michelle had done a wonderful job on it, rivaling the size of a wedding cake. It was shaped like a top hat, adorned with a green rose on the front. Sitting on top of the hat a white circular layer with an explosion of color that could only be described as splashes of paint. She had sprayed musical notes all around the white layer and around the base of the cake, more streaks of colored frosting all around.

"Holy crap, Michelle!" Sam exclaimed when he saw it. "That might be your best one yet," he added, peering at it from all angles. He pulled out his cell phone and began snapping pictures, and then clicked over for a video. "Say hi, cuz! I'm sending this to Rory!"

Michelle giggled and waved to the camera phone. "Don't worry, I'll make sure we save plenty of cake for you! Can't wait to see those baby blues sparkle when they announce your win!" She blew a kiss and winked, and then Sam turned off the video recording.

"Perfect! I'm gonna send him these now so he can see before everything gets going," the blonde explained, swiping and pushing buttons on his phone with a swiftness only teenagers were capable of.

_Good luck, not that you need it! I'm so proud of you! Love you lots and everyone says hi. Michelle even made this cake to celebrate. Xoxo_

Sam put his phone back on his hip and returned to helping put out the food for their party guests. His father was grilling hot dogs and hamburgers, and his mother had made potato salad, macaroni and cheese, baked beans, and squash casserole as well as put out bowls of chips and dip, along with a crock pot of meatballs and sauce. She had been busy all afternoon preparing everything, Sam and the children cleaning up the house to make it look presentable.

As Sam was putting out the condiments for the burgers and hot dogs, his hip buzzed. He almost dropped the ketchup bottle in excitement, but quickly recovered and then grabbed his phone.

_Thank you. The cake looks amazing. I'm so nervous, but I have to do this. I can win it. Love to everyone, especially my Sammy. Xoxoxo_

The blonde smiled at his boyfriend's response. He knew Rory was a bag of nerves at the moment and could picture him pacing around in anticipation. He typed out a quick reply back just as some of the guests were arriving. Artie, Tina, Mitchell, Sugar, Blaine, Ginny, Robert and a friend that Robert asked to bring along were all invited. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce came as well, Brittany in tow. The young woman had come home for the weekend just for this event. Miss Pillsbury was the only wild card.

"Hey Sam, good to see you!" blared a familiar masculine voice. Sam's eyes lit up as he turned around to see Miss Pillsbury with a very unexpected yet very welcome guest.

"Mr. Schue! You came!" Sam exclaimed, throwing his arms around his former mentor.

Mr. Schuester gave a friendly chuckle. "I couldn't miss this, even if I  _am_  up against you guys," he replied. "I know he's gonna win. Sebastian might be one of my guys now, but he isn't like Rory. Rory has charisma, personality."

"Mr. Schue, we don't have to talk about our teams. We're just here to see Rory win. The Warblers will be fine on their own. Let's just have a good time," Sam said softly. "I don't wanna think about you being on another team, okay? Even if you're a Warbler now, you're still on the New Directions."

A tear started to form at the corner of Will's eye. He blinked it away and smiled. All he could do was utter a choked thank you. He felt like a traitor. Figgins had canned the glee club and instead of helping the kids find a way around it, he had given up. He went to the other side. He was selfish. Even though he was smiling, he felt rotten inside. He hoped Rory won; he deserved it. All the New Directions deserved it. They didn't give up; they found a way.

Sam watched as Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury made their way through the growing group, greeting the other students with hugs and smiles, as well as greeting his parents. Everything seemed okay, the way it should be.

-ooo-

Rory paced backstage as he went over his song choices in his head over and over. It wasn't so much for the practice; he knew the songs backwards and forwards. It was to calm his nerves. To keep him from focusing on the pressure. The final two, and this was it. He either won and saved the glee club from complete destruction, or he failed and let down every one of his friends.

"It's almost time, Rory," Andrew said, quickly walking from the back door up toward the curtain in the front. "Have you seen Sebastian?"

"I think he's in the restroom," the teen replied with a shrug.  _Probably making sure he looks perfect in the mirror. It doesn't matter, they aren't judging on looks. I hope._

Andrew nodded and backpedaled toward the bathrooms, the man completely haggard by the stress of his duties. His cheerfulness was catching though, as the teen felt himself lighten up just a bit.  _I can beat Sebastian. I can beat him. Oh God, please help me win this. Not for me, for all me friends,_ Rory thought, smiling. Andrew ran back through the area, apparently having found Sebastian. The man gave Rory a pat on the back and a 'good luck' before disappearing on the other side of the curtain.

Sebastian strolled up casually toward the Irishman, a smirk on his face. "Are you ready for this? The big showdown," he asked with a genuine sense of concern. He looked over at his competition, who refused to even look at him. Sighing, the Warbler made one last chance at making peace. "Look, whatever happens out there tonight, I just want you to know, you've been amazing the entire time. I'm glad to be up against you for the last time."

Rory finally glanced over at Sebastian, meeting his eyes. At first the younger teen's glare was cold, his icy blue eyes cutting through the older teen like knives. Without blinking, he softened. Rory had to admit that Sebastian was indeed a worthy adversary, deserving to be in the final two. The Warbler had been through some issues of his own, yet he still managed to make it this far.

"Thank ye'. Ye've been great ye'self," Rory said quietly.

"You still hate me," Sebastian stated. It was not a question, but a declaration of understanding.

Rory hesitated. He didn't like to hate anyone. Even Azimio he had found the courage to forgive in the end. Sam was right about him—his heart was too pure to truly feel genuine hatred and animosity toward someone. Anger, rage, hurt, but not unadulterated hate. He held out his hand toward Sebastian. "I don't like ye', but I don't hate ye' either. I respect ye'r talent, but ye'r not the kind o' person I e'er want to be around."

Sebastian took the teen's hand and shook it firmly. "I can accept that. Maybe someday I'll be the kind of person…" he paused and chuckled to himself. "No, I'll never be the kind of person you want to be around. We're just from two different worlds. Maybe yours is better than mine."

Rory shook his head and grinned. "No, it's just different." Sebastian smiled back at him, the two teenagers meeting a mutual understanding that they would never understand each other, and they were both happy with that. "Come on, let's do this thing."

-ooo-

"Okay everybody, get ready! The show starts in less than five minutes!" Mrs. Evans announced over the din of the guests. Instantly there was shuffling as plates were thrown away and seats were claimed. Sam sat on the couch, Stacy wedged between him and Michelle, Stevie sitting on Blaine's lap next to his older brother. Their parents shared the large armchair. Tina and Mitchell sat on the floor in front of their friends while Sugar sat on Artie's lap in his wheelchair. Miss Pillsbury sat in another armchair, crossing her legs and looking as dainty as she could. Robert sat on the floor in front of her, feeling very much like a kid. In front of the TV sat Sam's laptop, the camera focused on the large screen, a Skype session live with Rory's parents and little brother.

Mr. Evans picked up the remote control from the arm of the chair and hit the record button and turned up the volume. Everyone in the room sat quietly, eagerly waiting for the show to begin.

Sam's heart began to beat faster when the Glee Club Project title card showed up on the screen, followed by the recap of the previous episodes.

"Sammy, you're not supposed to be nervous, that's Mr. Rory's job," Stacy scolded quietly. "Quit panicking." Sam stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, eliciting giggles from his cousin and sister.

"Shh! Pay attention! We might miss something important, like the winner's announcement!" Artie added, another giggle coming from the little blonde girl.

-ooo-

Rory and Sebastian stood side by side, waiting their cue to come onstage. Kevin was going on about the competition, reiterating the importance of this final face off. He finally introduced the two competitors, who walked onstage together.

"From McKinley High, Rory Flanagan!" Kevin blared. All of the eliminated contestants were sitting in the audience as well as their directors and glee clubs. They cheered loudly for the teen, whistling and chanting his name. Rory felt his face flush at the extra attention and support of the defeated club members. Unique and Matt sat in the back, holding up signs with his name on them.

"And from Dalton Academy, Sebastian Smythe!" Kevin announced. Again more cheers and chants, though not quite as much as for Rory. However Sunshine and Joe did hold posters rooting for the Warbler.

Back at home, the children were demanding to know why the two teens on TV were being introduced again when everyone should know their names already. They received no answer as they were quickly hushed by their parents.

Onstage, the two teenagers stood politely, waiting as the rest of the staff was introduced. Cassandra July was brought in, the beautiful woman giving a quick little dance and bow as well as a shout out to her students back at NYADA. If the woman pushed her students even half as hard as she had the contestants, then that school should be putting out the best dancers in the world.

Next, Andrew was brought onstage and introduced. He gushed about how much fun it was working with all of the contestants and how much he loved seeing them progress in their short time with him.

As he watched the screen, Robert let out a surprised gasp when the cheerful man walked onstage.

"What's wrong? You okay?" Sam asked, noticing the sudden reaction.

Robert nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, fine. Just wasn't expecting to see him on there," he replied. Sam looked at him quizzically, signaling for him to go on. "He's my ex-boyfriend." Robert's voice sounded a little sad, as if he missed the man. Sam made a mental note to ask him about it later.

The blonde refocused his attention on the screen, grinning widely as the last of the introductions were made and the actual singing was about to begin.

First up was Sebastian, and while he sang his selection very well, his stage presence wasn't that captivating. His dancing was nothing fantastic and his choice of "Tearin' Up My Heart" by N'Sync didn't seem to fit his voice. Of course Sam was overly critical of him anyway, refusing to admit that the boy really did have some talent.

Rory's first performance was "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence. Normally it had female vocals but he was able to pull off male vocals very well. He stayed within mid-range, his voice not as deep as normal. He sang with such conviction and emotion that he  _owned_  the song. The entire Evans household erupted in cheers and clapping, as did the audience in front of the stage. Sebastian forced a neutral look on his face even though he was seething.

The second session came after the usual commercials, giving both teens time to collect themselves and refresh with water. They stood at opposite sides of the stage, Rory with an uncharacteristically smug grin on his face as he glanced at the Warbler.

In an effort to branch out from his comfort zone, Sebastian decided to go with "Keep it Down" by Kelis, a hip hop artist from the early millennium. It fell flat. Hip hop was  _not_  his forte by any means, and while his dancing was much better, it wasn't enough to 'wow' the audience.

Rory's selection was a much better choice, even if it wasn't his greatest performance ever. He chose "Raspberry Swirl" by Tori Amos. It was a very original sound, and his interpretation was well-received even if it wasn't perfect. Tori had a naturally southern accent in her voice—something that Rory lacked. It was surely out of his norm, and it showed. It didn't show as poorly as Sebastian's choice, however, which pleased Sam to no end.

Another set of commercials went by, and then the final songs were set. Sebastian selected the Moody Blues' "Winds of Change." He made up for his less than stellar performances with this one, hitting the perfect vocal tones and enthralling the audience. It was definitely his strongest piece.

Rory was up last, with the song "Run" by Snow Patrol. It was one of his favorite songs, a fact that showed in every way. He sang with strong emotion just as with his first song, his facial expressions more than enough to draw in the viewers. A tear actually fell down Sam's cheek as he listened to his boyfriend croon out the song.

With all of the selections performed, it was time for the tough decision. While the judges went off to a separate room to talk over their choice, a few of the previous contestants made performances of their own. Unique blew the house down with "Womanizer" by Britney Spears, Sunshine Corazon right beside her along with Harmony Pearce. Matt and Joe performed "Don't Dream it's Over," a song that fit both of their voices quite well.

After another commercial break, Kevin appeared, Andrew, Cassandra, and the judges standing next to him on either side. They were all smiles, eager to make the announcement.

Sam and his friends and family were on the edge of their seats, waiting for the result. It was silent enough to hear a pin drop, hands sweaty and nerves about to blow for everyone.

"It has been a long journey for these two young men. Tonight was the most intense for them. Three songs each, with little time to really prepare, but they did an excellent job. Regardless of who goes home tonight and who wins, both of these gentlemen deserve the utmost respect from their peers and leaders," Kevin praised into the microphone, glancing to the nervous teenagers to his left.

Rory was biting his bottom lip in anticipation, Sebastian trying not to show his anxiety but his wringing hands betraying him. Their ears went blank as Kevin went on, their minds set to hear one thing: the winner.

"And the winner of the first ever Glee Club Project is…." Kevin began.

 


	44. Episode 44: Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Sorry these updates are coming so slowly. Between life, other projects I am working on, and finding time to edit the work once it is beta-ed, it is just going slower than I intended. Also of note, we are getting closer to the end of season 2. What comes after that? I honestly have no idea. A break, definitely. Getting my next major project edited and posted. Working on the Sam/Rory/Chord/Damian fansite that has been in early planning stages for months now :p Oh, and sleep that isn't laced with plot ideas for this story ;)  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: TVTime**

**Recap:**  Sebastian finally gave up on wooing Rory, focusing all of his efforts instead of beating him in the finals. He changed rooms and left Rory to himself, but then it got worse when Sebastian and Rory were paired up for the sexuality assignment. Sam put together a party to celebrate the final episode of the show and even had Rory;s parents attend via Skype, and right before the winner was announced the episode ended and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 44: Hero**

"And the winner of the first ever Glee Club Project is…." Kevin paused for effect, everyone on the edge of their seats. "Rory Flanagan from William McKinley High in Lima!" he cried out in a rush.

Surprised, Rory's mouth dropped open but quickly turned into a grin, the teen jumping up and down waving his arms in the air in victory. The whole studio audience cheered and gave their applause, even Sebastian's supporters. Nobody wanted to be pointed out as a sour sport.

Sebastian gave the teen a curt nod and a forced smile, as well as several slow claps of his hands. He was seething inside, fuming. Aside from securing a spot in nationals, Sebastian's goal had gone from befriending and seducing the New Directioner, to wanting only to humiliate him onstage, and none of that was happening. He had failed at seduction; he had failed to humiliate him on television. In fact, the only thing he had succeeded at was completely destroying any minutiae of a chance at a possible friendship. Nothing could be more embarrassing or enraging for him.

As soon as Sam heard the first syllable of his boyfriend's name, he felt the cheer surfacing from deep inside of his chest. He jumped up, throwing a popcorn bowl onto the teenager in front of him (and giving them a new plastic hat in the process), thrusting his arms into the air and yelling loudly.

"Yeah! That's my man! That's my Rory! Woohoo!" he shouted. Stacy and Stevie had quickly joined in, screaming his name. The other glee club members were cheering and clapping as well, even hugging each other in excitement.

Sam could barely hear Rory's parents on the laptop speakers as they, too, cheered for their son. Seamus was shouting in victory as well, throwing in random Gaelic phrases of excitement.

Kevin waited for Rory's glee to die down a little bit before shaking the boy's hand and giving him formal congratulations. "Now that you've won, how do you feel?" he asked.

Catching his breath, Rory answered him. "Amazing! I'm so happy!" he declared, still grinning from ear to ear and waving out at the audience. Several of the previous contestants gave him a standing ovation. Rory glanced down at the front row where the staff and judges were sitting and saw Andrew with a wide smile of genuine happiness. Andrew gave the teen a wink and mouthed, "Congratulations!"

"Anything you want to say to your friends at home? Shout outs?" Kevin asked the cheerful teen next.

"We're going to nationals e'eryone! Glee club is back!" Rory cried. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily, every bit of his energy going toward his victorious celebration. "I want to give shouts out to me friends in the club! Mitchell, Blaine, Tina, Artie, Sugar! And to Sam and me family in Ireland and Ohio!"

Rory could feel his cell phone vibrating on his hip like crazy. After several more comments, the show closed and everyone was free to mingle. Sunshine and Unique rushed up to him, both women hugging him and crying tears of happiness. Matt was next to congratulate him, as well as several others. He had a crowd around him, so many faces he didn't know, but everyone was giving him support. It was overwhelming.

Sebastian had a much smaller crowd around him; a few contestants and other glee clubbers he knew through the grapevine. He was more embarrassed that he had lost than angry. His ultimate goal had just been to show up his former crush, prove he was the better performer. Instead, Rory wiped the floor with him. It was going to be tough going home to the Warblers.

As the crowds began to clear out, Sebastian approached his competitor. "Congratulations, Rory," he said, holding out his hand. The Irish teen ignored his hand and instead gave Sebastian a very unexpected hug.

"Thank ye'. It was close though. Ye' put on a very good show. I was impressed," Rory replied. "I respect ye' as another performer, even though we don't get along otherwise."

Sebastian couldn't help but grin. "I'll take that all as a compliment. You did really well out there. I'm glad it was the two of us. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else in the finals with me." He didn't wait for a response, but instead turned and walked away. He was pleased with himself; he had done the hardest thing he had to do—admit defeat with grace.

When Rory finally got a moment to himself, he checked his phone. He had texts from Sam, Blaine, Tina, Mitchell, Sugar, Artie, Michelle, his parents, and two missed calls from Sam. Smiling, he dialed Sam's number as several more text notifications popped up from glee club alumni Mercedes, Brittany, Kurt, Rachel, and Finn. Even Santana sent her kudos via Brittany. Thumbing past them quickly, he arrived at the dial screen for the second time and pushed the button.

Sam answered on the first ring. "Congratulations!" the teen shouted before Rory could even say hello. "I am so proud of you! You were amazing, I can't believe how great you were!" he gushed. Rory could hear Michelle in the background as well as the other glee members.

"Thank ye'. It was fun but I am so glad it's over. So much pressure!" Rory admitted. "I'm ready to come home."

"I'm ready for you to come home! It's been lonely by myself," the older teen said. "You know I'm going to ravage you as soon as we get back to the apartment," he added in a whisper. Rory giggled, amused even more when Michelle snatched the phone away from her cousin.

"Rory, I'm so excited for you! You were amazing; I wish I could have seen it in person! You were perfect! I just can't say it enough, I'm so proud of you, cousin!" the girl praised. She continued to rave about him until Sam grabbed his phone back.

"Thank you, Michelle, I'll be taking my boyfriend back now!" Sam joked. "I think she might be more excited than anyone else!" he said into the phone, having regained control.

"That's why she's so cool, Sam. So when are ye' picking me up?"

Sam pretended to contemplate the answer, mumbling to himself as if unsure. Finally he broke the awkward silence. "First thing tomorrow morning. Michelle will probably come too, but once we get back we can ditch her and have some 'us' time."

"Hey! Ass!" Rory heard his 'cousin' snap. "You can't ditch me, I'm glued to your boy like white on rice!" She grabbed the phone again, this time insisting on spending some extra time with them.

"Michelle, I really do appreciate ye'r support, but Sam and I really do need some alone time. It's been a couple weeks, and we really just want to sit and relax a bit," Rory explained calmly.

"Oh stop it, you know you just wanna fuck like bunnies!" the woman teased. "At least let me take you to lunch, then you can go at it until your heads spin!"

Sam snatched his phone back once again. "Yeah, okay, thanks Michelle! Good night!" he said insistently. The woman was arguing playfully with him, chiding him for being so mouthy. "Jeez, that girl is nuts. Oh god, I can't wait to see you. Tomorrow won't come soon enough."

The two boys talked for several more minutes before Rory had to go. Interviewers wanted to speak with him, as well as take pictures for the paper. Everyone was dying to know about the handsome crooner from Ireland who had just won his school a sure shot at nationals. He felt like he was famous the way he was being treated, but as far as he was concerned, all he did was win a contest.

"There he is!" Michelle squealed as she spotted Rory waiting patiently in the hotel lobby, his bags next to his armchair. The excited woman dashed up to her 'cousin' and threw her arms around him as he rose from his seat. "You were amazing! You  _are_  amazing! You did it. I had no doubts! Ow, Sam!"

Sam tore her arms from around his boyfriend and playfully pushed the woman out of his way, taking Rory for himself. "If you don't mind, this is  _my_  boyfriend I haven't seen in two weeks!" he joked. He embraced the teen, kissing him. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said impatiently. He took one of Rory's bags and dragged it behind him on the suitcase wheels, Michelle taking the other while Rory shouldered his laptop bag and messenger bag.

As soon as they got to the parking garage, Sam opened the truck door, pushing Rory inside on his back, attacking his mouth with trouty lips. "Oh my god I missed you so much," he breathed between kisses.

Rory quickly forgot Michelle was present, his head getting lost in Sam's passionate kissing, the blonde's hands running up and down Rory's sides as Sam ground his hips lightly against him. It felt so good to feel Sam's mouth again, his hands, his body pressing up against him. Between kisses, Rory breathed in the scent of his boyfriend, a mixture of soap and cologne that was intoxicating.

"Ahem!" Michelle coughed loudly. "Third party here, all kinds of awkward!" she announced. When neither boy responded to her, she took a fistful of the back of Sam's shirt and yanked, surprising him. "I  _said_  all kinds of awkward here," she repeated, emphasizing her agitation.

"Oh, uh yeah, sorry about that," Sam said sheepishly. "Just been so long and stuff and uh, yeah…"

Michelle smirked at Sam's embarrassment, then looked to Rory and winked at him, his face flushed from the heat of making out and his own shyness at sharing intimate moments in front of his friend.

"Now, do you think we can make it to lunch and back home without sex in the truck? Aside from making a horrible mess on the upholstery, that's something I just do  _not_  need to witness. Especially because if Rory makes you his little bitch in bed, Sam, I will be obligated to make fun of you forever," Michelle informed them. She laughed to herself and then strolled to the passenger side of the truck, letting herself in and buckling her seatbelt.

"Is she mad?" Rory asked quietly.

"No, I'm not mad, just hungry. Let's  _go_ ," Michelle answered before Sam could respond to his boyfriend's inquiry. The two teens looked at each other and shrugged. Rory straightened up in the cab, sitting between Sam and Michelle. Once Sam had backed out and left the parking garage and got on the highway, he slipped his hand into Rory's, locking their fingers together.

"Ah, young love," Michelle sighed, leaning her head against the window and smiling. As happy as she was for her cousin, she was still incredibly lonely herself, though she opted not to show it most of the time.

The trio of Sam, Rory, and Michelle stopped for lunch about halfway home, and then stopped by Sam's house to drop Michelle off. As wonderful as it would be to see the Evans family, Rory was tired and anxious to get home to some alone time with Sam. Already two steps ahead of his boyfriend, Sam had arranged for his family to be out of the house for a while with the promise to come see them the next day, when Rory had a chance to get some real rest.

"You two go on home. Try not to disrupt the whole apartment complex with your 'alone time' because knowing Sam, he's probably incredibly loud," Michelle said with another smirk.

"You do realize how messed up it is for you to say stuff like that when I'm your cousin, right?" Sam asked her with a look of disapproval on his face.

Michelle shrugged and smiled. "Sammy, if I didn't tease you then who would?" she asked. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and then hugged him. "The ride was fun, now go have a ride of your own. Love you cuz," she laughed. She then turned to Rory and hugged him, kissing him on the cheek as well. "Take it easy on him, he's an old man. Two years make a big difference you know," she teased. "Love you too, little cuz."

Both teens bid her goodbye then watched as she backed her car out of the driveway to begin her trek back home. As soon as she was out of sight, the boys began kissing again, hands all over each other. "I think we better take this home, we might get arrested for indecent exposure," Sam said. He opened the truck door and stared at Rory's ass as he climbed in. "Now there's a sight I have missed."

Sam went a little more over the speed limit than he usually did—an entire fifteen miles over in fact. He almost forgot to put the truck in 'park' when they arrived at the apartment complex until Rory reminded him to pull the brake. They grabbed his bags and hurried upstairs.

The door barely closed before Sam was accosting Rory's mouth again. His hands were already up the boy's shirt, edging it upward. He broke the kissing long enough to yank the shirt from his boyfriend and then again to remove his own shirt. The pair hurriedly made their way to the bedroom, tripping over their own feet as they moved. Sam pushed Rory backward, the teen landing on the bed with a slight bounce.

The older teen quickly reached down and unbuttoned Rory's pants and yanked them off right along with his boxers and shoes in one smooth motion, leaving his boyfriend completely nude on the bed, Rory's erection already beading with precum.

"My god you are so beautiful," Sam declared. "I missed you so much, you just don't know." As he spoke, he removed his own shoes, jeans, and underwear, his own erection already throbbing in anticipation.

"I missed ye' too, Sam. So much. I think I've been spoiled 'aving you with me all the time. I—" Rory's words were cut off when he felt Sam's thick lips wrapping around his manhood. Rory gasped at the unexpected sensation. He thought he might burst then and there as Sam worked his mouth up and down the pulsing shaft, remembering to pay attention to the sensitive foreskin.

Rory's head was swimming with pleasure, his thoughts completely dissolved. All he could focus on was the handsome blonde working his hard on, Sam looking up at him with innocent eyes.

When Rory knew he could hold back no longer, he placed his hands on Sam's cheeks and guided him upward toward his face. They began to kiss again, Rory tugging on Sam's aching cock that was begging for attention.

Sam got up on the bed and on his hands and knees, positioning himself so that his crotch was right above Rory's face. The younger teen hungrily took Sam's dick in his mouth, working on him just as vigorously as Sam had done for him. The older teen moaned louder than he meant to, but it felt so amazing to be in his boyfriend's mouth again.

Sam moaned louder still as he felt his balls being sucked into the younger teen's mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation. When Rory finally stopped, Sam was breathing heavy, his body aching for release.

"Fuck me, Sam," Rory growled. He knew that dirty talk was a turn on for his boyfriend, and at that moment he didn't care how vulgar he was being. He wanted Sam inside him and he wanted Sam inside him  _now_.

"Huh? Say again?" Sam teased. "You want what?"

"I said I want ye' to fuck me, Sam! I  _need_  ye' to fuck me. I need it so bad," Rory begged. "Don't make me tell ye' again!"

Needing no further instruction, Sam scooted himself back until he was sitting between his boyfriend's legs. He guided the teen's legs in the air and over his shoulders and then pressed his cock against Rory's ass, precum moistening the tight opening.

"You ready? I dunno how gentle I can be, I'm on the edge already," Sam warned, looking into the boy's eyes for assurance.

"Do it," Rory demanded, bracing himself mentally for what was about to happen. Sam smiled, leaned down for a quick kiss, and then started to press his cock against Rory's hole. He tried to be gentle as possible, but was unsure how well he was succeeding. Rory's legs were locked around him, pulling him closer. Sam felt the teen's hands reaching for him, grasping Sam's sides. Sam was already halfway inside of him when Rory pulled him the rest of the way inside, letting out a cry of pain and pleasure, his eyes watering.

Sam had no words for how good it felt. He was used to going as slow as possible, opening the boy up and working him until he was ready, but this sudden forceful thrust was enough to make his entire body quiver in delight.

"What are ye' waiting for? Fuck me, now!" Rory ordered, their eyes still locked on each other. Sam grinned and slowly pulled back, then pushed right back in to the hilt. He watched as his boyfriend bit his bottom lip and moaned. Seeing the desire in Rory's eyes, he began to speed up much quicker than usual. Sam didn't know how much longer he could last as he thrust in and out fast and hard, Rory's tightness contracting around him.

Sam felt Rory tighten more and more; he could sense the impending orgasm coming. Rory's toes curled and his fingernails dug into Sam's sides, tracing red lines along the older teen's flesh.

That was all Sam needed to crash. He moaned loudly as he felt his cock pulsing, shooting ropes of cum inside of his younger boyfriend. He pounded deep and hard, milking every last drop from himself. He could see the slight winces of discomfort as Rory became extra sensitive. Sated, Sam pulled out, his seed leaking onto the bed.

"Oh me god, that was the perfect welcome home," Rory sighed, breathing heavily. "I love ye' so much, Sam. I don't think I could e'er say it enough."

"Me either. I love you, too. Always and forever," Sam replied. After a moment he realized they had made a complete mess. "I better get a towel so we can clean this up," he said, starting to get off the bed. Rory grabbed his arm and yanked him back down.

"No, no need. We aren't done. We 'ave time to make up for and we 'ave all night," the teen said with a very mischievous grin. "I'll talk as dirty as ye' want, but I need it as much as ye' can give me."

Sam grinned wider. "You sure? I was pretty rough on you just now."

Rory shook his head. "I don't care. I want ye' inside me all ye' can manage. Now shut up and cuddle with me until we're ready for round two."

Sam laid down next to the boy and they shifted into a comfortable spooning position. "I think I like this forceful, naughty Rory. It's been a while since he made an appearance. What's the occasion?"

Rory was thankful Sam couldn't see him blushing. "I don't know what's got into me, I just know I wanted to turn ye' on as much as possible. I know the dirty talk helps, so there we go. I'll be talking like that plenty more tonight. I'm gonna wear ye' out."

The blonde laughed. "I dunno, if I keep abusing your ass the way I just did,  _I_  might wear  _you_  out."

"Sounds like a challenge, Mr. Evans," the Irishman said slyly. They both laughed, basking in the afterglow of amazing sex until they were ready for round two. And three. And four. By morning, they had successfully worn each other out to the point of exhaustion, Sam's cock in pain from the excessive topping, and Rory's ass sore and bruised, having endured an entire night of relentless and rough sex with his well-endowed boyfriend.

The Evans family didn't get their visit from Rory and Sam until late afternoon. As soon as the two teens walked through the front door, the little blonde children made a mad dash to the foyer, running right past their brother and tackling Rory.

"I'm so glad to see ye' both, too," the Irishman laughed as he knelt down to give the two kids hugs.

"Gee, thanks guys, happy to see you, too," Sam mumbled, pouting. Stacy gave her brother a quick hug before tugging on Rory's hand.

"Come on, Mr. Rory, I have something to show you!" the little girl squealed in delight. She dragged him to her bedroom, the teen barely able to say hello to his host parents.

"Uh, hi! Bye!" Rory said to Mr. and Mrs. Evans. He waved with his free hand and almost tripped when he made it through Stacy's bedroom door.

"Look!" the girl ordered. "I made this just for you!" She was pointing excitedly to her easel, a large sheet of paper tacked on it. She had drawn Rory, holding up a large yellow trophy with music notes coming out of it. The background was made up of the Irish flag, made to look like stage curtains. At the bottom, where the stage was sitting, were the words 'Congratulations, Mr. Rory!' in orange, green and white letters adorned with shamrocks.

"Oh wow, Stacy, it's amazing!" the teen exclaimed. "Ye'r a really great artist, and ye' made it for me?"

"Uh huh! Just for you. It's your prize for winning! Mommy helped me spell the words, but I did everything else all by myself," the girl informed him proudly.

Rory picked her up and hugged her. "Thank ye', I love it! I'm going to frame it and put it up in the apartment," he said. The girl squealed, clapping her hands.

"You should see the other picture she drew for us. It's in the kitchen at home. I thought we might put it in a frame too," Sam mentioned. "To be so young, she really is amazing." He smiled at his sister, filled with pride. "She wants to draw my album covers when I become a big famous singer."

"Yep! I have to get really, really good, but I got time, right Sammy? I'll be able to practice lots more," Stacy said. "I want to be like that turtle, Michelangelo."

Rory looked over at Sam, cocking an eyebrow. The older teen just smiled and shrugged. "What can I say, she's devoted and talented. Just like you, 'Mr. Rory'," he teased.

"Hey, don't forget about me! I'm gonna be a famous football player someday. I'm gonna be on the Tenny-see team since that's where we were born," Stevie piped up, not wanting to be ignored in favor of his sister. "I've been practicing a lot!"

"Sounds like we might 'ave to play a game soon," Rory said. "Not today though, I 'ave jet lag."

"Jet lag?" Stevie asked, confused. "But isn't that from airplanes? I thought Sammy drove you."

Sam quickly covered for them. "Uh, it's just an expression. It's the same thing as jet lag but for driving. It just means he's real tired and needs some good sleep. The competition was real stressful for him."

"Oka-y," Stevie said. "But I'm holding you to it and I'm gonna beat you both so bad you'll be cryin' to momma!" he declared confidently.

They didn't get to continue with the conversation as Mr. Evans interrupted. "When's our turn to see you? The kids stole you so fast we barely said hi," he teased. He stepped forward and gave both of the teenagers tight hugs before addressing Rory. "I'm so proud of you. You really did a great job."

Rory blushed. "Thank ye'. It was really nerve wracking. I'm glad its o'er but it was so much fun."

"Cookies! Cookies! Look who has cookies!" chimed Mrs. Evans, holding a plate of various baked treats. She strolled into the kitchen with it, all four kids and her husband following swiftly. When they arrived, she set down the plate and wrapped her arms around her adopted son. "Oh, it's so good to see you home! We all missed you so much!"

"I missed ye' too. I'm glad to be home again. Maybe now things will calm down a little and I can get a break," Rory said, picking out several cookies from the tray. Mrs. Evans had made quite the variety: chocolate chip, white chocolate macadamia nut, oatmeal raisin, chocolate, and peanut butter cookies. The teen picked out one of each, placing them on a paper napkin from the table.

"Have a seat, dear. I'll get you some milk," the woman suggested. Rory sat down on the wooden chair, wincing slightly as his bottom was still quite sore.

"Damn, Sam, take it easy on the boy," Mr. Evans commented with a smirk. Neither of the children nor his wife heard the comment, but Sam and Rory both blushed deeper than the reddest apple.

Hoping to dissolve the awkward moment, Sam asked if they were having dinner. His mother answered that they were going out for dinner to celebrate, for once at a restaurant that was not Breadstix. It was an expensive seafood place, all of the food imported from the east coast in refrigerated vans to keep it fresh. Both teens exchanged excited glances, their eyes lighting up. Seafood was a very rare treat in Ohio. Unfortunately the children had no desire for seafood, so they wouldn't be joining them.

At dinner, Rory relayed to the family many of the details of the behind the scenes goings on of the Glee Club Project. He told them about his favorite competitors—Unique, Sunshine, Matt, and he even had to admit Sebastian was very talented. He left out the sordid story of Sebastian's flirtation, walking in on him in the shower, and his eventual changing of rooms. Sam already knew what he needed to and nothing more, and the Evans' didn't need to know anything about their history with Sebastian.

"Sebastian's the boy you met at a party last year, right?" Mr. Evans asked at the dinner table, much to Rory's and Sam's dismay. While he already knew the answer, he used this as a chance to introduce the boy to his wife, who was not familiar with the Warbler.

"Uhm… yeah. He was alright, but he has a different set of morals than we do," Rory answered awkwardly. "He's uhm, Sam what's the word for—"

"He's a uh, kind of loose," Sam blurted out. It wasn't the most appropriate thing to discuss at dinner, but at least the children were with a sitter and not present to hear about promiscuity; neither one of them were fans of seafood. Rory nudged him in the side. "What? I mean, he is. We're not like that."

"Oh, so he's a whore," Mrs. Evans stated plainly, putting a forkful of fish in her mouth.

Sam blushed. "Oh my god, you did not just say that, mom!"

Rory's mouth dropped. Never in a million years would his own mother have said something so vulgar and he surely didn't expect it from Mrs. Evans, a woman who prided herself in maturity and class.

Mr. Evans glared at her disapprovingly. It was  _very_  rare for his wife to talk that way, let alone in a public place at the dinner table and the shock was a bit much for him.

"What? That's what he is if he sleeps around. I'm simply using the word teenagers use these days. We're all adults here. They can handle it," his wife declared with a grin. "Besides, I love to shock you all now and then."

"Oh you succeeded at that alright!" Sam exclaimed. "And now that this conversation has steered into an extremely awkward direction, I'm going to the restroom." He got up and left the table, heading for the bathroom.

"Sebastian just isn't very nice. He says things to people that are mean, and he has a lot o' partners. He really isn't the sort to hang around unless ye'r into that sort o' thing. He is a very good singer though. I really thought if I lost, it would be to him," Rory explained.

"Well you beat him, so obviously he should have slept with the judges if he wanted to guarantee himself a spot in the winner's circle. So, tell us what it was like being in front of those cameras all day," Mr. Evans said.

Rory finished chewing on his shrimp before answering. "It was very nerve-wracking! I felt like I was on display or something. I had to make sure I didn't say anything bad because I didn't want anyone else to get their feelings hurt. It would 'ave made me look bad if I was talking about people anyway."

Mr. Evans continued to ask questions until Sam returned to the table. The family finished their meal as Rory explained song choices.

On the way home from his parents' house, Sam noticed that his boyfriend was fidgeting in his seat, something he had been doing all night.

"Are you okay? You keep moving around and scrunching your face up when you sit down," he asked.

Rory shot him an annoyed glare. "Do ye really 'ave to ask? Me arse hurts so bad from last night! It feels like a giant bruise e'erytime I sit down!"

Sam couldn't help but giggle. "Oh baby, you know you liked it. All night long. You wanted it just as much as I did. Besides, you're the one who basically impaled yourself when we started."

"Yeah, yeah. I did like it," the younger teen admitted with a smile. "One o' our best nights. Ye' wore me out, I don't think I can take it for a while."

The blonde put his hand on his boyfriend's knee, then slowly moved it up his thigh, heading toward the boy's crotch. "Don't worry. I won't do that tonight. I just want a bit of dessert when we get home."

"Dessert, huh?" Now Rory had a devious grin on his face. Sam's hand had begun to caress Rory's growing erection through his jeans. "What d'ye' plan to do?"

"Hmm. I think I'll strip you down, shove you on the bed, and suck you until you explode, and then keep on going. What do you think about that?" Sam asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You want me to do that for you?"

The Irishman blushed as he admitted his desires. "Yes. I'd love that. I'm so tired though, I—"

"Don't worry, baby. This is all for you tonight. I just wanna make you feel good. I can handle myself tonight," Sam replied, massaging the young teen harder. "First we just gotta make it to the apartment without anyone seeing your pants. You've got quite a bulge going there."

Again the young teen blushed at Sam's comment. It didn't matter that Sam was saying it, the words still made his cheeks turn pink and still increased his body temperature as he thought about what awaited him at home. When they finally pulled into the parking lot, he stretched his shirt down in a failing effort to hide his excitement. Fortunately, nobody saw, although it would be a shock had nobody been able to hear his cries of ecstasy as Sam worked him over shortly after getting in the door. When Rory was completely drained of his seed and energy, Sam snuggled up with him, falling asleep as a pair.

-ooo-

Returning to school after being away for two weeks was slightly surreal. Unlike the summertime when everything had taken a break, the classes had gone on without him. Getting back into the swing of things was going to take some time.

At lunch, Rory sat with his usual friends; Mitchell, Artie, Sugar, Blaine, and Tina. Despite the excitement they felt, Rory could sense something was a little off. Before he had time to investigate, he saw a group of students approaching their table.

The group was led by a Cheerio he hadn't seen before. She had long blonde hair tied into a high ponytail and pursed lips as if she constantly had a smirk. On one side of her stood three students, and two on the other. Rory didn't recognize any of them.

"Rory Flanagan," the Cheerio stated, rather than questioned. "Congratulations on your win on the Glee Club Project," she added sweetly, batting her eyes at him.

"Uhm, thank ye'. I don't think I know ye' though. What's ye'r name?" he replied nervously. Something about this girl put him on edge. He almost felt like she was judging him, but for what reason he didn't know.

"I'm Kitty Wilde, captain of the new glee club at McKinley," she said, her smirk turning into a wide smile. The other students watched him, waiting for his reaction to her declaration.

"Wait a minute, we're the glee club. New Directions. Ye' can't just make a new glee club like that," Rory replied, confused and even more unnerved than before.

Kitty's grin turned into a smirk once more. "Oh, we can, and we have. Figgins shut down the New Directions, but after your win he had no choice but to reopen the club. I was the first to speak with him about its revival, therefore  _I_  am the captain."

Tina, Artie, Blaine, Sugar and Mitchell all turned to face their friend, whose mouth had dropped open in astonishment.

"But ye' can't do that! It's not fair. We've worked hard, some for three years! Ye' can't take that away!" Rory said, standing up abruptly, his hands on the table.

"What do you care, Rory? You're on the team of course. You won, you're the guarantee we make it to nationals. There's six of us, and you make seven. If we let your friends rejoin our club, we have our twelve. Of course, they have to try out again," the blonde girl said, her eyes shining with a devious gleam.

"No, I don't think so. I'll 'ave this cleared up with Mr. Figgins. If anyone deserves captain it's Tina or Artie; they've been here the longest. I've ne'er even seen ye' before." Rory's pulse was increasing as his anger rose.

Kitty waved her hand dismissively. "Oh calm down. I'm sure all five of them will get in. Now let me introduce your new teammates," she said. "The boy who can't decide if he's black or white is Jake Puckerman. His brother graduated last year," she began, nodding toward the teen to her immediate right. He was a light-skinned black boy with black hair, wearing a black leather jacket. He nodded toward the Irishman, giving a short 'Hey'.

"The hottie on my right is Ryder Lynn. He's too goofy for his own good, but he's hot so he's excused. Sadly he seems obsessed with the awkward girl next to him. She's Marley Rose. Her mother is that obese gravy-loving giant of a woman that works behind the cafeteria line." Ryder was a very tall boy with side-swept hair and a friendly smile. He didn't seem like the type to want anything to do with Kitty. Neither did Marley for that matter, who looked on the verge of tears at her captain's harsh words. She averted her eyes, chewing on her bottom lip.

"The other guys are Brody Weston and Hunter Clarington. Brody is hot but way too gay for a straight guy. Somehow I doubt that stuff he uses for his facials is actually PG rated. Hunter is a pompous rich boy who was too lame to join Dalton Academy because his daddy got in an argument with their headmaster."

Rory was horrified. Not only was Kitty incredibly rude, but she belittled her teammates and was downright mean, particularly to Marley. He refused to stand down.

"Ye'r kind of a bitch," Rory stated, finally finding his confidence. "Nobody who acts like that can be in New Directions. I'm going to Figgins right now!" he declared. With that, he picked up his books and left the cafeteria purposefully.

Blaine got up and ran to catch up with him. He grabbed his friend by the arm. "Hey, wait up," he called.

Rory paused and looked at him. "Did ye' know about all this?" he demanded.

"Well, we all did. She's been on this rampage since this morning," Blaine replied. "She got together the new club not long after you looked like you might win. She kept saying if you won, she was taking charge of the new club and going on to nationals."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Blaine swallowed hard. "We didn't want to say anything because your first day back was going to be stressful enough as it is. We haven't told Sam, either."

Rory's eyes filled with anger and hurt. "This isn't something to keep from me. I'm going to take care of this, and if Figgins refuses, I'll withdraw me win and screw nationals. I refuse to be in a club with someone as nasty as her."

The former Warbler sighed. "Tina, Artie and I went to Figgins right when we found out she was starting this. He said since she got to it first, she's captain, and in charge. He refuses to change his mind, Rory. We've tried."

"Well ye' don't 'ave anything to hold o'er his head. If I threaten to withdraw the win, he has no choice but to do what I ask," Rory stated confidently. "Right?" he added much less surely. "Right?"

"You can try. I hope you have better luck than we did," Blaine said, his eyes tired and sad. "If he says they have to stay, they may not be so bad. Kitty's a bitch, and Hunter's a pompous ass, but the others aren't so bad. I like Marley and Ryder the most."

Rory didn't feel like continuing the conversation. This was his friends' senior year, and Tina and Artie earned the right to be captains more than anyone. Not only that, but he was the one that won, and he should be able to determine his teammates to take to nationals. He didn't win so Kitty Wilde could come in and turn the glee club into her own punching bag.

-ooo-

Half an hour later, Rory stormed out of Figgins' office, furious. The man refused to back down, and furthermore threatened suspension if Rory so much as thought about withdrawing. At that point it was obvious Kitty had some sort of blackmail or bribe on the man.

"Miss Pillsbury!" he called out, entering the counselor's office without knocking. "I 'ave to talk to ye', right away!"

"Oh my, hello Rory. Congratulations on your victory. I was hoping you'd be a bit happier about it though," the woman said, her doe eyes wide and worried.

Rory frowned. "Did ye' know about Kitty and this new glee club?" he asked flatly. "Tell me ye' didn't. Please, Miss Pillsbury. Ye'r the last staff member I can count on."

The woman looked on the verge of tears. "I… yes, I know about her. She's not very nice at all."

"Ye' 'ave to help us. We 'ave to get her out, and get our glee club back. It's not fair to us, to me. I didn't win for her. I won for us. For Artie, Tina, Blaine, Sugar and Mitchell. I did it for them. Not for Kitty and her friends." The teen's voice was shaking at this point, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

"Calm down, have a seat, honey. I promise it'll be alright," Emma said, giving him a kind smile. "Let me close the door so we can talk privately." In reality, she didn't want anyone to hear the plot she had been working on in her head ever since she first heard about the situation with Kitty.

"Here, wipe your eyes," Emma said, handing the boy a tissue box. "I have an idea, but I wanted to wait until you were back to mention it," she said softly. "I can't be certain it will work, but it's worth a shot."

Rory sniffled, wiping his eyes with the tissue and then looking up at the guidance counselor with desperation. "What is it? What do ye' need me to do, I'll do whatever it takes to get the club back."

Emma grinned. The boy had gained a lot of confidence since his arrival at McKinley. He had been through so much in the previous year, and then he was faced with losing the club, losing their mentor, and now having to deal with Kitty and Figgins. He had once been very timid, but the boy who sat before her now was much different. He was confident, sure of himself, strong. She had faith in him, trust in him.

"Listen to me carefully, because I shouldn't even be telling you this since it's kind of sneaky," the woman began, her voice still low as if she expected the room to be bugged. Knowing Sue Sylvester, it very well may have been. "All club captains are supposed to be chosen by majority vote. That can override an appointed position on occasion."

"Okay, so what do we do?"

"Go ahead and try out for the club. She'll have to let you and your friends in just to meet twelve members. Once you're accepted, that's when the plan goes into action," Emma said. "There's six of you, and I bet you can convince at least one or two of the others to join you. You hold a vote for a new captain, and as long as it's one of you, you're safe. Kitty might have to still be in the club, but she wouldn't have the power of a captain."

Rory smiled for the first time since Kitty had walked up to introduce herself. "That's genius Miss Pillsbury! That just has to work! I bet we can get Marley to vote against her. Kitty said some really awful things to her and she looked really sad. I don't think she wants Kitty in charge either. Kitty said Ryder was Marley's boyfriend, so if he votes with her, we might have at least eight votes. All we need is seven."

"Exactly. Now you have to tell the other original members, but no one else. If you talk to Marley and Ryder, be careful exactly what you say. You don't want them telling Kitty about the plan and she stops you from joining again."

Rory stood up, smiling. "Yes, ma'am. It's an excellent plan. Ye'r the best e'er, Miss Pillsbury," he said, turning to leave.

"Rory?" she called. "Don't tell  _anyone_  I helped you. Not even the other members. Say you came up with it yourself, but nobody can know I had anything to do with it. I would get in a lot of trouble for favoritism and it might ruin everything."

"I understand Miss Pillsbury. Thank ye' so much again. We're gonna pull this off and get the club back together the right way. Kitty Wilde won't know what hit her!"

Emma smiled as she watched her student open the door and leave with new resolve. She knew that it was risky, but she couldn't bear to see her students have their club taken from them when they had worked so hard. It wasn't right, and she would do whatever she could to help without endangering her job.

-ooo-

"I can't believe they're letting this happen!" Sam exclaimed angrily, slamming his fist against the steering wheel. He had just picked Rory up from the bookstore, the boy having worked his first shift in weeks. Ginny had practically mauled him with hugs, his shift more or less consisting of relaying to her his experience at the Project rather than actual work.

"Calm down, please," Rory asked quietly, placing his hand on Sam's knee. "It's gonna be okay, because Miss Pillsbury has a plan," he added. He offered his boyfriend an easing smile as Sam turned his head momentarily to look at him.

Sam sighed. "Alright. I'll calm down. What's her plan?"

"She said for us to get back into the club, and we can vote Kitty out o' position. We can vote someone else in. I think Artie and Tina should 'ave it. They deserve it," Rory explained.

"No, I think  _you_  deserve it more. It's because of you that you're all going to nationals anyway," Sam argued. "If it weren't for you, there wouldn't be any hope at all."

Rory shook his head. "No. I did me part. Artie and Tina 'ave been in glee club since it started. It's their last year. They deserve to be in charge this year. They deserve to see the club take nationals. Next year I can try out for captain."

Sam sighed yet again. "Good point. That's my boy, always looking out for other people." Rory smiled, gazing out of the window, watching the trees go by.

-ooo-

The rest of the original glee club all agreed to go along with Miss Pillsbury's plan, which Rory disguised as his own idea. He didn't want anyone accidentally letting the truth slip out. During study hall, Rory decided to go to the library to work on catching up with schoolwork he hadn't finished during the Project.

Sitting two tables down was a girl with long brown hair, a pageboy's cap pulled down, hiding her eyes. Rory immediately recognized her as Marley, the timid young lady with Kitty's group. His eyes lit up as he realized this was a perfect time to recruit her to their cause.

"Hi, I'm Rory Flanagan," he said, sitting across from the girl and holding his hand out. "We didn't get a proper introduction yesterday. Marley, right?"

The girl lifted up her head, a slight smile on her face. She reached forward and shook his hand. "Yeah. Marley Rose. I'm sorry she was so rude to you. That's just how Kitty is. I guess I'm used to it."

"Nobody should 'ave to be used to being talked to like that. She wasn't just rude to ye', she was cruel. That's not the way a teammate should talk to another teammate, especially when she's captain," the teen stated, looking into Marley's eyes.

Marley smiled a little wider, her eyes twinkling. "That's really nice of you, Rory. The thing is, I really want to sing. I want to be part of the club, which means putting up with Kitty."

Rory smirked confidently. "Not for long," he stated. The young lady cocked her head, curious. "I need ye'r help though. See, I 'ave this idea. If we can get a majority vote against her, we can vote her out o' captain and put someone else up."

"Really? But… I don't think anyone else will vote against her. Definitely not Jake, Brody, or Hunter," Marley replied, her smile disappearing.

"Part one of the plan takes care o' that. The former members are going to get back in. Artie, Tina, Blaine, Mitchell, Sugar, and meself. That's six. If we can get ye'r vote, that's seven. Seven is a majority. If we can get even more, it'll be better," Rory explained.

Marley stared down at the table, deep in thought. It sounded like a good plan. If Kitty could be knocked off her pedestal, the whole dynamic might change for the better. Kitty would be furious and might even quit, but she was holding them back anyway. Nobody could express their talent without her getting in the way. She looked back up at Rory, locking eyes with him.

"Ye' can trust me, Marley. I promise. Glee club has done a lot for me, and for the others. We don't want to see it go away, not to Kitty. I 'ave to know that we can count on ye'r vote though."

"I trust you. I'm not sure exactly why, but I do. I'll vote with you. I'll vote against her. I can probably get my boyfriend, Ryder, to vote against her too," the girl said, her smile reappearing. "He doesn't like her really. He even called her a bitch to her face."

Rory chuckled. "I like him already. See if ye' can get him to vote with us."

"I will."

"One other thing. Don't let anyone else know we're planning this. If Kitty finds out, or any of the others, we may not get in and the plan is crap. Make sure Ryder knows that too," Rory said, his tone filled with seriousness.

"Right. You can count on me. You don't know how happy this makes me," the girl said. "All I want is to have fun and sing and make friends. Without her in charge, I think I can do that easier. Thank you, Rory."

The junior smiled again as he stood up. He noticed as he returned to his seat that the sophomore was grinning, a new glow about her. Suddenly he felt that Marley deserved to be in this club and she deserved kindness and friendship. Kitty would be dethroned if it were the last thing he did.

-ooo-

Tryouts for the new glee club weren't until Friday. In that time, Rory had recruited Marley and Ryder, and the pair of them quickly became friends with the other former members. Kitty still sat with the rest of her clan, looking disapprovingly at Marley and Ryder. The only things keeping her from kicking them out of the club were numbers and sheer talent. She couldn't afford to lose any members because they needed a total of twelve, and even she had to admit that Marley and Ryder were incredibly talented.

When Friday finally came, Miss Pillsbury sat in the auditorium alongside Kitty and the other new club members. Even though Rory was accepted by default, he chose to sit with Artie, Tina, Blaine, Sugar, and Mitchell. He watched as one at a time his friends went on stage and sang. They were all so amazingly gifted, and if Kitty even thought about not accepting one of them, it would take an act of God to keep him from killing her then and there.

After conferring with her other members, Kitty announced who would be accepted.

"I can see why you did so well last year. I'm not saying you're better than me, but you definitely have talent and skill. All of you are in, but don't get cocky. Just remember who's in charge," the Cheerio said, her ponytail bouncing as she spoke. "Dismissed until Monday." She stood up and marched out of the auditorium, Brody, Jake, and Hunter following her. Marley and Ryder joined their new friends in a celebratory fest of hugs and congratulations.

Part one of the plan was a success.

-ooo-

"Sammy! What are we gonna do today?" Stacy squealed as her big brother stepped inside the house. Sam was taking Stacy and Stevie for the day so that his parents could go to dinner and a movie in peace. Stevie wasn't far behind her, tugging at Sam's arm.

"Yeah, what are we gonna do?" the young boy asked.

Sam scratched his head. "Well I hadn't really thought about it. I guess Rory and I can take you… somewhere," he said, unsure of exactly where they could take the kids. The park was nearby but they played there all the time. Besides, it was too cold to do much outside, except one thing.

"How about ice skating?" Rory suggested as if reading Sam's mind.

"But there's no ice outside," Stacy pointed out. "How can we skate if there's no ice?"

"Fake ice, dummy," Stevie informed her. "You know, in a building, like hockey. It's not real."

Sam poked his brother. "Don't call her a dummy. But you're right. It's just like the hockey rink. It's real ice, but it's indoors."

"Ohhhh," the little girl replied. "Sounds fun, Sammy! Let's go!"

"Whoa, hold on there kiddo," came the voice of Mr. Evans. "You two better make sure you have your coats, gloves, and hats. It's indoors but it'll be like a freezer in there. I don't want you catching colds."

Without a second instruction, both children retreated to their bedrooms to hunt down their winter gear, leaving Sam and Rory to chat with Mr. Evans. His wife was in the bedroom changing clothes.

"Here, guys. Take this, for their skating and something to eat," Sam's father said, handing over some cash. Rory stepped forward and gently pushed Mr. Evans' hand away.

"This is our treat. We can afford it. Use that for tonight," Rory said. His host father smiled proudly at his adoptive son.

"Gotcha. I swear, I keep forgetting how mature you boys are. All grown up, with your own jobs and money. I guess that makes me an old man."

"You're not an old man, because if you're an old man, that makes me an old woman," Mrs. Evans announced as she entered the room. She was wearing a classy cocktail dress with her hair styled up, her favorite jewelry adorning her neck and wrists.

"Wow, mom, you look mom-hot!" Sam exclaimed with a laugh. "Dad, you better keep an eye on her."

"Oh Sam, stop," his mother said, blushing. She then hugged both of her boys, smiling. "You sure the kids won't be too much for you?"

Rory shook his head. "We've watched them plenty o' times. We're just gonna go to the skating rink and then maybe out for pizza."

"Oh that sounds fun. Make sure they—" she began.

"Have their coats, hats, and gloves, yes we know, mom. Don't worry, we got it covered," Sam interrupted. He winked at her and threw his arm across his boyfriend's shoulder. "We can handle them. It's good practice for later on down the road when we have our own kids."

Before Rory could respond, Stacy and Stevie came bounding back into the room wearing their winter gear. Everything Stacy wore was a shade of pink or purple from her hat to her shoes. Stevie on the other hand wore navy blue and black.

"Looks like you're all ready," Mrs. Evans said. She then turned her attention back to the teenagers. "Have fun, guys. Be careful." She knelt down in front of her children. "Now you two listen to Sam and Rory. They're adults, so do what they tell you. And have fun. I love you both," she instructed, kissing both kids on the cheek.

Sam and Rory were already exchanging hugs with Mr. Evans when she stood back up to collect her own affections. The parents bid their children farewell with an excessive amounts of 'I love you' and 'have fun'. They watched from the door as Sam helped the kids into the truck and then the four of them were out of the driveway on their way to the skating rink.

-ooo-

"Mr. Rory, will you help me tie my skates?" Stacy asked, anxious to get on the ice with her brothers. Rory knelt down and tightened her laces then tied them both in double knots so they wouldn't come loose. "Will you hold my hand?"

Smiling, Rory took the little girl's gloved hand into his own and led her out onto the ice. She was nervous, using her free hand to hold onto the railing as she cautiously stepped onto the slippery surface.

Immediately her skates started to slide, the only thing keeping her from falling down being Rory and the rail. "I'm scared, Mr. Rory! Take me back in!" she squealed.

"No, come on. Ye' can do it. I'll help ye'. Don't let go of me hand or the rail, and just try to stand still. Don't try to walk or anything yet," the teen instructed. Stacy looked up at him with big eyes, terrified yet trusting. She nodded nervously and tried again.

Once the little girl was able to stay on her feet, he urged her to move forward just one step, not letting go of her safeguards. Before they knew it, she had made it a whole ten steps without falling.

"See, I told ye'. Let's do a lap around like this, then we can try without the rail, okay?"

"O-okay," she replied. Slowly but surely they made it around the rink, Sam and Stevie passing by three times. Sam stopped next to them as they were just finishing up their lap.

"Come on, let's go," Sam urged, reaching for her hand. Stacy glared up at him. "O-o-kay, maybe not," he replied.

"You go too fast, Sammy," she explained.

"Let go of the rail already, come race me!" Stevie shouted, approaching them. He tried to stop but failed, running right into the wall with a thud. The other three started to laugh as Sam helped him up. "Not funny!"

Not letting the fall discourage himself, Stevie skated back off, calling out for his older brother. "Come on, Stacy, hold my hand. I won't let you fall," Sam said, holding his hand out. His sister stared at him again.

"I'm staying with Mr. Rory. You go too fast," Stacy repeated. Sam pretended to pout, sticking out his bottom lip and then skating backwards a few feet, watching them. Stacy narrowed her eyes at him, then looked up at Rory. "Let's go," she said, finally letting go of the rail. She wobbled just a bit, but she was able to stay up, still holding onto Rory's hand.

"Ready to go without the rail I see," the younger teen observed. "Let's go slow so ye' don't fall." He let Stacy lead him at her pace, moving slowly. The further she went, the more confidence it instilled in her. She wasn't up to Sam's and Stevie's speed, but she wasn't doing too bad either.

Sam was racing Stevie around the arena, weaving in and out between other skaters. Every time Stevie attempted to stop, he either fell down, or smacked into the wall. Sam helped him up each time, but the boy just shook it off, ready to go again. Sam had to admire his brother; the boy let nothing stop him. Every few minutes Sam made sure to look over at his boyfriend and sister, keeping an eye out for their progress. He was impressed. His sister had gone from the rail in a single lap to just holding Rory's hand, and now she was actually letting go of him, trying to stay up on her own.

"Wow, look at her!" Stevie exclaimed, sliding past his brother. He called out to her, "Stacy! Good job!"

The little girl was startled and fell flat on her rear end. Rory was right there, ready to help her up. He expected to see tears in her eyes, but instead they was anger. He helped her up on her feet and she unexpectedly started to take off in hot pursuit of Stevie.

"Uh oh, you better move it!" Sam told him. Stevie didn't need to be told twice as he saw his sister heading toward him at an alarming speed.

"I'm gonna get you Steven Evans!" she shouted angrily. Rory followed behind her, ready to help her up if she fell down. It was a useless worry, however, as she had found some secret rush of ability to hunt down her brother.

She finally cornered him as he had just righted himself from a less than skilled stop. She tackled him, the pair sliding across the ice in a heap until they slowed down just before the wall.

"Ow! What was that for!?" Stevie demanded angrily. "I didn't do anything!"

"Oh yes you did! You made me fall down!" Stacy retorted. "I told you I would get you and I did! So ha!"

"Are ye' okay?" Rory asked, stopping at one side, Sam on the other.

"Yes!" Stacy cried out while her brother yelled out a firm 'no'.

"I think his pride is hurt more than anything. Come on you two, I think it's time for a break," Sam suggested. The two teens helped their charges get back up on their feet and gingerly make it back out to the dry area. The two children sat on one of the wooden benches while the older boys helped them take off their skates. They then removed their coats and after a quick look, they discovered that both kids suffered only some bruises from falling over. Nothing they wouldn't bounce back from.

"How about some pizza? I'm pretty tired," Sam asked. Both children cheered in excitement at the mention of one of their favorite meals. The four of them finished drying off and changing into fresh clothes and then piled into the truck.

"Wow, it sure got dark fast," Rory observed, buckling Stevie into his seat in the back row of the truck cab. "And where did the rain come from? Its winter!"

"No kidding," Sam agreed. "Cold plus rain is a recipe for sickness for sure." The teens hopped into the front seat, Sam turning on the heater while Rory settled on the music.

Not five minutes on the road and the two children were in the back, arguing about what music they wanted to listen to and what kind of pizza to get.

"Hey ye' two! Calm down!" Rory ordered, turning his head to the back. Normally they listened rather well, but their rivalry on the ice was carrying over and they ignored his instructions. "I said calm down!" he repeated but to no avail.

Unable to take the bickering any longer, Sam turned himself halfway around to the backseat and bellowed. "Calm down! Right-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as the world jerked harshly and suddenly began to spin crazily upside down, right side up, and upside down again. Screams and squeals filled his ears, his vision nothing but a blur of red and white lights. He heard the shattering of glass and the crunch of the truck landing on top of it along with the high pitched squeal of metal wrenching in unintended positions and splatters of rain coming in from somewhere.

 


	45. Episode 45: Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Another long time between updates. Sorry! Just so much going on. I will tease this thoug—the project I am working on in top secret is titled "The Musical Vampire Mysteries of Rory Flanagan" and is a crossover with True Blood. Now that's all ya get. ;)  
> _ **  
> Beta Credit: TVTime**

**Recap:**  Rory won the competition but had an unpleasant greeting when he returned home when Kitty Wilde assembled her own glee club which would okay if she was actually nice but instead she's an evil crazy bitch. Sam and Rory took the kids out for an afternoon of fun but Sam took his eyes off the road for just a moment and crashed and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 45: Crash**

When everything finally stopped spinning, Sam tried to get his bearings. He was still upside down, held in place by his seat belt. Drops of water were blowing inside by a cold breeze, splattering against his face. A quick scan of the cab showed that Rory was also hanging upside down, but didn't seem to be conscious. Stacy appeared to be unconscious as well, but Stevie seemed rather alert, howling in pain or fear, Sam couldn't tell which.

Sam unbuckled his seat belt, carefully lowering himself from what was now the roof of the truck. His hands stung as he put his full weight on the glass covered ground. His left leg was throbbing as well. Actually, it wasn't just a throb; it was a pain so searing that it took everything he had not to scream out.

Stevie was crying uncontrollably, screaming Sam's name. Stevie's coat had been loose in the backseat, so Sam grabbed it and placed it on the floor, covering the glass. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

Stevie shook his head. "Scared! Sammy, I'm scared! What happened? Why are we all upside down?" the little boy questioned.

"Okay, calm down, buddy, calm down. I gotta get you down. I can't get back there, but I put the coat down to cushion you. I want you to put your arms up like you're doing a handstand, okay?" Sam prayed that he was doing the right thing to get his brother down, that he wasn't going to cause him to get hurt. "I'm gonna reach up and unbuckle your seat belt. When I do, you gotta try and lower yourself so you're on all fours, okay buddy?"

"O-okay, Sammy," Stevie said between sobs. He sniffled and raised his arms, just barely able to touch the ground. He could feel lumps under the fabric of the coat, but they didn't cut through.

"Be brave, buddy, be brave. You can do this," Sam assured him. With great pain, he reached upward and put his hand on the buckle. "Okay, here we go. You can do it, I promise."

Steeling himself, Sam released the buckle, forcing back a grimace at the tiny yet sharp stabs of pain in his palms. Stevie dropped down, all of his weight on his small hands. Sam helped him the best he could to fall down on all fours. He finally breathed a little easier when that task succeeded. "Good job, Stevie. I knew you could do it. Now be real careful because there's glass everywhere. Just stay right there. I have to get your sister and Rory down."

Taking a moment to think, Sam determined that with Stevie's help, he could manage to get Stacy down without hurting her. Stevie grabbed her plush, pink jacket and laid it out per Sam's instruction. He then crawled right underneath the unconscious girl and turned over on his back, reaching up toward her shoulders. Sam reached up and released the buckle, all of Stacy's weight landing on Stevie's arms. He managed to bring her down, the little girl falling right on top of him, using him as a cushion.

"Way to go, buddy. You did great. See if you can lay her down, but be careful of the glass," the teen said. His eyes locked with his little brother's for just a moment, but in that second he saw fear and bravery all at the same time. He smiled at him and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You did amazing." Stevie's clothes were smeared with blood, but not his own. It was from Sam's bleeding hands.

_Fuck. How am I gonna get Rory down by myself? I guess the same way Stevie got Stacy down. Lay down and reach up and pray for the best. Oh God, Rory, be okay._ "Stevie, I need you to reach up and unfasten the seat belt when I tell you to, okay? I'm gonna do the same thing with Rory that you did with Stacy."

The little boy edged himself over to slide his arms between the seats. There wasn't another coat to lay on the ground; Sam was on his own, and his brother and sister wee using theirs as well. Rory's jacket was still on him so Sam tried to brush away as much glass as he could. He was certain he missed some when he laid on his back and all he felt was a bunch of tiny pricks in his skin. He grunted, refusing to let Stevie see him in pain or fear.

"On the count of three, unsnap the buckle," Sam said. He put his arms on Rory's shoulders, took a deep breath, and counted to three. Stevie pressed the button and Rory fell instantly on top of Sam. Despite his desire to deal with the pain, Rory's foot fell upon Sam's injured leg. He screamed out, causing Stevie to cry out his name.

"I'm okay, his foot just hit my leg. He's down; he's okay," Sam said. He carefully exchanged places with his boyfriend, giving him a cursory glance to see if he was hurt anywhere. He couldn't see anything right away, but that didn't mean nothing was wrong.

By this point, the two Evans boys could hear sirens and see flashing lights. People were yelling and arguing. Finally a man called out to them, identifying himself as a fireman. Water splashed beneath his boots before he crouched down to see inside the overturned vehicle.

"Everybody alright? Anyone hurt?" the man asked, shining a flashlight into the cab.

"We're okay. My leg hurts. My sister and boyfriend are unconscious, but me and my brother are alright," Sam replied quickly. "There's blood, but I can't really tell from where or how much."

The man was puzzled a moment, certain the voice that spoke had been male.  _Boyfriend?_  Refocusing, he started to give instructions. "We're gonna clear out the rest of the glass on the windows and slide a board in there. Help us get the unconscious people out first."

The fireman used some sort of blade to cut the rest of the glass away and then a flat plastic board was slid inside the window. Sam pulled Rory up onto it the best he could and the fireman slid the board back out, Rory on top of it. Sam could hear the sound of medics speaking, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. He saw the wheels of a stretcher and then watched helplessly as another board was slid in through the next window. Stevie was able to help push his sister up onto the board and the fireman pulled her out.

"Okay, you two now. Lie back on the board to keep off the glass and push with your feet to slide out. The little boy first," the man instructed. When Stevie was safely out of the truck, it was Sam's turn. When he got outside his first inclination was to get up and inspect the scene, but the moment he put pressure on his leg he cried out in agony.

"Sit down, sir. Don't move. We need to check out your leg," a nurse said. A stretcher was parked right next to him and with help, he managed to get up on it. Once inside the ambulance, questions started flowing from his mouth.

"Where are we going? Where's Stacy and Rory? Stevie, where's Stevie?" Sam asked in a rush.

A male EMT put his hand on Sam's chest, gently pushing him back to make him lie down. "Don't worry, sir. We have the little boy and we're bringing him in here to ride with you. The other two are in other ambulances, but we're all going to the same place. I need you stay calm, especially for the little boy."

Sam continued to ask questions, wanting to know how Stacy and Rory were, if they were conscious yet, if they were hurt, so on and so forth. He finally got his thoughts together enough to ask them to call his parents. "My phone's in my pocket. I dunno if it survived or not," he said. He reached down to fish his phone from his pocket. Amazingly enough it had made it unscathed. He unlocked it and scrolled through the contacts until he got his father's cell phone.

"Dad!? Dad!" Sam exclaimed when his father answered. "Dad, there's been an accident," he said, trying to calm himself down. "Someone hit us in the truck," he went on. The EMT could hear the slew of questions Mr. Evans was asking him and finally took the phone from the teen.

"Sir? Yes, Mr. Evans. You can meet us at the emergency room. We'll need your permission to care for the children, and possibly the teenager as well," the EMT explained. "Yes, yes bring his paperwork. I promise you, we're doing everything we can to make sure they all end up in the ER safely." After verifying the name of the hospital, the EMT hung up the phone and handed it back to Sam.

It was at this point that everything suddenly hit Sam, every negative emotion in the book slamming into him one after the other. He was afraid of what happened to his sister and Rory. He was scared for himself and his brother. He was angry with the driver who hit them. He felt nervous about what he was going to see in the ER. All he wanted to do at that moment was hold on to his three loved ones closely and know they were all right. He felt a small hand reach over and grip his own.

"Be brave, Sammy. Just like you told me to," Stevie said. "Don't cry; be brave like me." It was those words that allowed Sam to blink away his tears and calm down. His brother was right there with him, being brave and strong for him, scared to death but putting on a face of confidence.

Sam tried to smile but the sensation of torn fabric being pulled away from his wounded leg caused him to grimace instead. The EMT was cutting his jeans off of his legs, putting the ruined garment in a plastic bag. His whole lower leg was covered in blood, from shin to ankle. Stevie's eyes widened as he saw the bright red covering his brother's skin.

"Look away, Stevie, look away. I'm okay; just don't look," Sam said. Stevie situated himself so he was facing his brother, his back to the lower half of the teen's body. He never let go of Sam's hand, his cheeks stained with drying tears.

"I love you, Sammy," the little boy said softly. Sam reached over with his free hand and brushed the back of his hand on the boy's cheek. It left a small smear of blood, but neither boy cared.

"I love you, too, Stevie. Everything's gonna be okay. These people are going to make sure of it."

Several minutes later, the ambulance came to a stop, more bright lights flashing around. The doors opened and two more EMTs helped to pull his stretcher out. He saw out of his peripheral vision both Rory's and Stacy's stretchers being wheeled into the hospital ER. Stevie stood by his side, still holding onto Sam's hand as he followed the stretcher inside.

"Brave Stevie. I'm so proud of you, buddy," Sam said with a pained smile. His little brother smiled back, understanding in that moment just how important it was to maintain himself. The little boy could see the fear in his older brother's eyes, could tell that Sam was struggling to stay in control of himself.

Sam's stretcher was wheeled into the ER and positioned behind a curtain which the nurse then pulled closed. She introduced herself as Nicole, and aside from asking what happened, she said little else. It was obvious that she wasn't being rude, just focused.

Nicole inspected his hands for glass. Thankfully there were no shards of slivers stuck in his skin, but the tiny cuts were numerous and bleeding. She pulled the bedside table over, a pan of water on it.

"I'm sorry, but this is going to be uncomfortable. I have to wash the blood off, sanitize the wounds, and wrap them. Don't hate me," the woman said, her voice giving away her genuine concern. First she dipped one hand in the water, trying to gently wash the blood away. Sam gritted his teeth as she finished up and dried him off, then used antiseptic ointment to sanitize the flesh before she wrapped gauze around it. His fingers were free; just his palms had been cut. The few scratches on his fingers were covered with smaller pieces of gauze held by medical tape. Nicole repeated the process with his other hand, giving him a comforting smile as she finished.

"There, done with that unpleasant task. Now I have to do something even more unpleasant I'm afraid," Nicole announced. "Are you sure you want your little brother in here? I'm going to have to remove your clothes and put on a gown, then do a few simple diagnostics while we wait for the doctor to come in and look at that leg."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, Stevie can stay. I don't want him by himself. He might get—I mean, I might get scared without him to protect me," he said, grinning at the boy. "After all, he helped me get out the others from the wreck. He's awesome."

Stevie beamed at the nurse. "Well then, looks like you're very lucky to have each other," she said. She reached behind the stretcher to fetch a clean gown for him. She helped him remove his shirt since the gauze made it difficult to get a good grip on anything. His jeans had been cut away so all that remained were his boxer shorts. Sam slid them down, slightly embarrassed that he had to be so exposed in front of this very beautiful nurse and his little brother. Stevie hadn't seen him nude since puberty, and Sam could already see the questions churning in Stevie's head as he watched the nurse intently.

"That gown is kind of ugly," Stevie commented, wrinkling his nose at the pale blue garment with the hospital logo printed all over it. "And kinda short. Better not stand up, Sammy, or everyone might see your bits."

Sam giggled. Leave it to Stevie to make him laugh in a dire situation. "Thanks for the tip. I don't wanna embarrass myself." He ruffled the boy's hair with the tips of his fingers and then turned his attention back to Nicole.

"I came here with my little sister and my boyfriend. They were both unconscious. I want to know how they're doing and when I can see them," he stated as Nicole filled out a few items on her clipboard.

"I don't know if I can get anything on them yet, but I can try. What're their names?"

"Stacy Evans and Rory Flanagan. If they're awake, tell them I love them," Sam requested. Nicole smiled at him, admiring his dedication to his family.

"Me too!" Stevie blurted out. "I mean,  _I_  love them too, not just Sammy."

The nurse smiled at the boy and then looked at Sam. "Okay, let me get the diagnostics done on you first in case the doctor comes in. If it isn't done he'll have a cow. After that I'll see what I can find out on Stacy and Rory. Deal?"

"Deal," Sam replied with a smile. Nicole did the usual tests—temperature, heart rate and blood pressure. She asked his weight and height, for allergies and medications, and then sighed.

"You're an easy patient, Sam. No allergies or meds, your stats are all good. Heart rate is a little high, but that's expected." She finished her notes on the clipboard, hung it off the end of the stretcher, and disappeared behind the curtain to check on the others.

Sam laid back and closed his eyes a moment. He was ready for this all to be over with. He wanted Rory by his side and Stacy in his arms. He didn't know how much longer he could hold his emotions together in front of his brother. Just as he thought he might be dozing off, he heard his parents outside.

The curtain opened and Stevie ran up to their mom and dad. Mrs. Evans opened her arms and picked him up, crying and muttering unintelligible motherly nonsense. His father ruffled the boy's hair and then approached Sam. He leaned over and gave him a hug.

"What happened, son?" Mr. Evans asked. It was very rare that he showed no signs of humor. This was father-mode, a place he only visited when the kids needed to be disciplined or when there was something serious going on.

"I don't know, dad. One minute we were driving down the road; the next we were upside down. We must have been T-boned. I don't know how it happened," Sam replied, hanging his head. "My god, dad, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He sniffled and began to cry openly, finally letting himself break down. He didn't need to be so brave for his brother anymore; his parents were there to comfort them both.

"Don't worry; everything's gonna be okay. We checked on your sister and Rory before we came in here. They're stable. Stacy came-to. She said her head hurts real bad and she's more worried about you and Rory and Stevie than anything else," his father explained. "They gave her some weak drugs to stave off the headache. They had to stitch up her forehead, but it was nothing major; just a small cut. She's watching cartoons, sitting on the stretcher sipping fruit juice."

Sam sighed in relief. Her wound was small and easily mended. One thing he learned about blood from Rory's attack was that it always made things look ten times worse than they really were. His stab wound had bled so much it looked like someone had tried to cut off his whole arm. Shaking off the memory, he inquired about his boyfriend. "What about Rory? Is he awake yet? Is he okay?"

Mrs. Evans answered before her husband could. "He's okay. He's awake, but very groggy. They gave him some drugs to ease the pain and it's got him disoriented. He's gonna be okay though."

Sam sighed in relief. "Thank God! What about injuries?"

"There's a small cut over his eyebrow, some bruising in a few places, some scratches. Give him a week and he'll be as handsome as ever," his mother answered with a smile. "He just might have to get physical therapy to retrain his eyebrows to dance," she added mischievously. Humor wasn't just an Evans male trait apparently.

Right then, Nicole pulled back the curtain. She introduced herself to Mr. and Mrs. Evans and then gave them a quick run down of Sam's current state, and then she went to explain what was going on with Rory and Stacy. It was the same information his parents had given, but somehow it felt better being verified by a nurse.

It was then that the doctor came in. He introduced himself as Dr. Carter Kennedy. He was a very handsome man with short brown hair parted to the side, glasses, and a pleasant expression on his face. He was youngish, no older than thirty five. After glancing over the chart, he went to inspect Sam's leg.

"If you don't mind, would the three of you wait outside? I want to respect his privacy," Dr. Kennedy requested. Mr. and Mrs. Evans started to exit, but Stevie refused.

"No, I have to stay. I have to protect Sammy and make sure he stays brave!" the little boy declared, looking up at the doctor.

"Well if it's okay with Sam and your parents, you can stay."

Sam nodded his approval, as did the Evans parents. They decided to go check on Stacy and Rory while the doctor took care of Sam.

"This isn't gonna be the most fun I'm sorry to say. We gotta get that wound taken care of. Looks like a slight laceration and possible fracture. I'll have an X-ray done to verify in a moment. After that, cleaning and stitches will be in order," the doctor explained. Before he even had time to leave, the portable X-ray machine was toted in and placed over him. It took just a few seconds to scan and then dispense the X-ray print, which he held up against a lighted panel on the wall. Sam stared, amazed at how far technology had come with portable medical machinery.

"Well? How's it look?" Sam asked nervously.

"Just as I thought. Fractured shin and shallow laceration. I think you were lucky. You didn't get major damage to the muscles or anything so you should heal just fine. I just have to apply the stitches."

Stevie held onto Sam's bandaged hand. "Don't worry, Sammy, if it hurts just squeeze my hand and be brave," the boy said.

Dr. Kennedy used a needle to administer a numbing agent to Sam's leg, and after cleaning the wound thoroughly, he began to stitch. Sam's forehead was covered in sweat and he thought he might pass out. It wasn't the pain so much as the sight. Stevie kept his eyes averted, not wanting to see the actual procedure. Sam tried not to pay attention, but the constant poking and pressure made it difficult to look away.

After finishing the stitching, Dr. Kennedy set Sam's ankle. Sam wouldn't be using a cast, but instead his ankle would stay wrapped with bandages and a brace.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Kennedy," Sam said. "Now I finally have an excuse for being a bad dancer!" he added, laughing.

"Sam, you can call me Carter. And I'm sure your dancing is just fine. Maybe you'll even improve now." He smiled back at Sam, giving him a quick wink.

"Mr. Carter, I don't think anything can improves Sammy's dancing. He's really bad," Stevie assured him.

"Thanks a lot!" his big brother replied, giving him a playful bump on the shoulder with his fist.

"I better get going. I have more patients to tend to. If you have any problems, aside from your dancing, just call my office," Carter said. "Stevie, you take care of your big brother," he added, ruffling the kid's light blonde hair. "Nicole should be back shortly. See you guys."

As soon as the doctor was gone, Stevie turned toward his brother with a devilish grin. "I think he likes you, Sammy!"

Sam chuckled. "Too bad for him. Rory already claimed me. Maybe I'll tell Blaine to make up a reason to come to the ER and he snag Dr. Carter Kennedy and sweep him right off his feet."

Stevie closed his eyes and shook his head. "Mr. Blaine is with Mr. Kurt. Maybe you should leave match maker-ing to Stacy. She's much better at it."

The teen only smiled. Stevie and Stacy didn't know the details about the problems Blaine and Kurt were having and were still under the impression the two boys were still a couple. If it wasn't for the fact that Carter had to be in his mid to late twenties, Sam might have really entertained the idea of finding a way for Blaine to meet him.

-ooo-

Nicole came back into the room to check on Sam and Stevie. After being reassured that he could see both Rory and Stacy within the hour, he was able to relax just enough to fall asleep.

No sooner had Sam closed his eyes and drifted off than the accident replayed in his head. He heard the crunching of metal, the shattering of glass, screams, sirens and panicked cries. He saw his loved ones illuminated in the harsh flashing lights, His boyfriend unconscious, his sister helpless, and his brother terrified—all hanging upside down, every bit as powerless and vulnerable as he was. It repeated again and again until he lost count of how many times his world spun out of control and the violent sights and sounds flickered and echoed.

Sam was snapped out of his nightmare by soft hands gently shaking him by the shoulders. He opened his eyes in alarm to find Nicole standing beside him. "Sam, wake up!" she said. "You can see them now." The teen's eyes lit up like jade glass. "Looks like you were having a nightmare anyway. You were tossing and turning and mumbling."

"Yeah, kept reliving the accident. Doesn't matter. I want to see my sister and Rory," Sam replied, shaking his head.

"I'll take you to your sister first. You're gonna have to use crutches though. Trust me, if you put your weight on that ankle, you're gonna scream and cry no matter how much Stevie holds your hand," Nicole informed him. She lowered the stretcher until it was only a foot above the floor. Sam scooted around so his legs were hanging off the edge. Nicole held the crutches in front of him and after a rather wobbly start, had him perched with the crutches beneath his underarms.

"This is gonna take some getting used to," he complained. "Guess I'll get my exercise. Where's Stevie?"

"With your sister. Come on, take your time," Nicole answered. She put her hand on his back and guided him across the floor and to an actual room down the hall on the far side of the ER. Inside were both of his parents and his siblings. Stacy was sitting up, but visibly tired and unhappy. She had a bruise on her jaw and a small scrape on her forehead that had already been stitched up, but otherwise looked okay. Upon closer inspection Sam realized that, she had a couple more bruises on her arms and legs, but they were very minor.

Stevie was sitting on the end of the stretcher, trying to cheer Stacy up by recounting Sam's heroism. He slid over to allow Sam to sit between them so his older brother could give Stacy a tight hug. Tears slid down his cheeks as he sobbed unintelligible words into her shoulder. All he could hear was her sweet voice telling him not to cry.

A few minutes later Nicole returned to take Sam to Rory's room. The children wanted to go, but Mr. Evans insisted they give the boys time alone. He knew Sam was going to be emotional and most likely would have the cathartic breakdown he knew his son was holding in and thought it best the kids not be there to see it and only worry about him even more.

"Don't worry guys. You can see him in a little while. I promise," Sam offered as he hobbled away with the nurse. Rory's room was on a different hallway, but not too far away. When Sam entered the room, Rory was lying back, eyes closed.

"Rory, you have a visitor. A very  _important_  visitor," Nicole announced. The boy's eyes shot open immediately, and he quickly sat up.

"Oh me god! Sammy!" he exclaimed. Sam managed to get to the stretcher, sitting on the side. He leaned over and threw his arms around his boyfriend, the tears beginning to flow again.

"I'm going to give you boys your privacy. If you need anything, just press the call button," the nurse said, but the two teens were too wrapped up in each other to pay attention. She shook her head and smiled.  _Young gay love. So sweet. That's how it_ should _be. No fear, all out in the open. They make an adorable couple,_  she thought to herself.

By the time Sam pulled back from the hug, Rory was in tears as well. "I was so scared," he said softly. "When I woke up, e'erything hurt so bad. Nothing was clear; it was like looking through water or something. I felt sick. Weak. It was awful."

The blonde reached forward and held his boyfriend's hand. "I was scared, too. I didn't know what was going on with you or Stacy and everything was happening so fast. I can't even remember half of it now, just the confusion and fear."

"Ye' did good, Sam. Ye' got us all out o' there. We're all okay now," Rory said. "Well, sort of. We're a little worse for the wear I think, but we're safe and alive and together. We can't really ask for more."

"You'd be proud of Stevie, you know. He helped me get you and Stacy out of the seats, and he helped get you guys out of the truck. He stayed with me and held my hand the entire time we were in the ambulance and in the ER. He kept telling me to be brave."

Rory smiled and leaned his head back, a fresh surge of pain medication entering his veins through his IV line. "He's amazing just like his big brother," he said. "How did ye' fare? Ye'r hands, ye'r leg? Nurse Nicole already told me how Stacy is doing. Thank God she's okay now, but ye'? Ye' look pretty bad."

Sam shrugged. "I'm okay. I cut my hands up on the glass a bit, but it isn't that bad. My ankle is fractured and I have a big gash on my shin, but it'll heal according to the doc. I'm more worried about you."

"I survived nearly being killed by a bully and his knife. I think I can survive a violent car accident just fine," the brunette joked. "Sam, I know ye'r worried about Stacy and want to be with ye'r family, but… will ye' stay with me for a while?"

Sam squeezed Rory's hand, despite the discomfort. "Of course. Mom and dad are with the kids. They're fine. I'm right where I need to be."

After fifteen more minutes of peace, Nicole came back in to let them know that Rory and Stacy were being admitted overnight since they had suffered from concussions. The doctors wanted to keep them under observation for twenty-four hours to make sure they were going to be all right without any further after effects.

Stacy and Rory couldn't be roomed together, but after begging, Sam was allowed to stay with Rory overnight. They left the stretcher in his room so Sam could sleep on it and keep his leg propped up. Meanwhile, Stacy was admitted to the children's ward. Mrs. Evans agreed to stay with her overnight while Stevie and her husband went home to get some rest until morning.

Before falling asleep, the victims and their parents said a prayer, thankful that things ended up alright overall. All four of the kids were going to recover from the incident just fine, over time. The truly difficult part was going to be preventing the images of the accident from invading their dreams and memories.

-ooo-

Sam woke up around two in the morning to pee, and couldn't seem to fall back asleep. He kept wondering if the accident had been his fault. He was driving, and he took his eyes off the road, so technically it made it his fault by his logic. He looked over at Rory and his guilt began to swell.

_For the second time since you've been with me, you end up in the hospital. Both times it's my fault. I could have stopped Azimio if I hadn't had my iPod playing so loud I couldn't hear you yell for help. This time if I hadn't taken my eyes off the road, the crash wouldn't have happened._  Sam's thoughts began to rip at him, tears welling up in his eyes.  _The most painful thing is that he doesn't blame me. Not at all._

Rory rolled over and saw his boyfriend laying on the stretcher, hands behind his eyes staring up at the ceiling. His leg was propped up on a pillow, his crutches nearby. He had heard Sam get up to go to the bathroom, but it was the sniffling that really brought him out of slumber.

"Sammy? Are ye' okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Sam lied. He looked over at the look on Rory's face. It was the look he gave him when Rory knew he was fibbing to cover up when he felt like something was wrong. "No," he sighed. "Rory, I'm sorry. This shouldn't have—"

"Sam, stop. Just stop. 'Should' or 'shouldn't' isn't important. It doesn't matter, none of it. It happened, but we're all safe, all four of us. That's what matters," Rory interrupted.

Sam's shoulders slumped. "It was  _my_  fault. I took my eyes off the road. I could have killed us all. I mean, look at Stacy. Look what I did to her," he argued softly. They spoke in hushed tones so as not to draw attention of the night nurse, who might make Sam go home if he was causing a disturbance.

"Ye' didn't do anything. It was a drunk driver. It was raining. This would 'ave happened either way. I don't blame ye', and neither does Stacy. It was an  _accident_ ," the brunette insisted. "Look, if ye' want some sort of blame or punishment, just look at ye'r leg. That's the worst that happened, so take that as whate'er it is ye' think ye' need to be punished for. Just remember that ye'r doing it to ye'rself and nobody blames ye' but ye'."

Sam sighed but smiled. "You have such a way of making me feel better. I love you so much," he said, staring into Rory's eyes, which were bright even in the darkness.

"I love ye' too, Sammy," the younger teen replied. "Now shut up and get to sleep. Something tells me mom and dad won't let us get much rest tomorrow."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, when did you get so bossy?" Sam joked. He adjusted his pillow and pulled the blanket closer to his chin. Rory chuckled and rolled back over, quickly falling back asleep. Sam stayed awake a few minutes more, staring at Rory's bare back showing through his hospital gown.  _Even all jacked up in that gown he still looks sexy. I wonder if he'll play naughty nurse with me later._  Sam suppressed a laugh at his own dirty thoughts. Finally he yawned and fell back asleep.

-ooo-

Rory had been right about not getting much peace. Early in the morning the nurse came in to take his vitals, then around eight she returned with breakfast. It was tolerable, but definitely not IHOP.

Rory was shoveling a pancake into his mouth when he heard the familiar giggle of little Stacy Evans. She slipped into the room in a pink hospital gown and slippers. She wore a second gown backwards to cover her backside so the entire ensemble resembled a frumpy dress.

"Mr. Rory!" she whispered excitedly. "Aww lucky, you got pancakes! I got eggs," she complained. "I'm so happy to see you," she added standing by the bedside. Rory scooted over a little and patted the mattress. She hopped up next to him and looked at his plate, then back at him, then down at the plate.

Smiling, Rory cut a piece of pancake, dipped it in sugar-free syrup, and fed it to her. She leaned her head against his side happy that she had her treat.

"Where's Sammy?" she asked, finally noticing the absence of her brother.

"He's in the shower. More or less," Rory replied. Stacy looked at him, confused. "Well he isn't supposed to get his leg wet yet, so I think he's doing the sponge bath thing."

"Yes, I'm doing the sponge bath thing!" Sam hollered from the bathroom. "Rory, I'm gonna need help with my pants in a sec."

"I guess that's me cue. Here, finish the pancakes and we'll be out in a minute," the young teen instructed, sliding out of the bed and letting Stacy get comfortable under the blankets, pulling the tray closer so she could reach. She happily started cutting the next piece of pancake, no longer concerned with anything else.

Rory opened the bathroom door and stepped inside. "Don't worry. She's on the bed. She can't see that her brother's hung like a horse," he teased.

"That's absolutely disgusting," Sam replied, scrunching up his face. "Come on, help me out." Ever the efficient boyfriend, Rory carefully pulled Sam's boxers on, followed by his jeans. It was obvious that Sam really didn't need help, after all he could bend his knee just fine.

"If ye' wanted attention, ye' could just ask for it, Sam. Put on ye'r shirt and come see ye'r sister."

Sam smirked playfully and kissed his boyfriend gently on the lips. "I think that's the first time you ever told me to put  _on_  a shirt."

"Shut up, Sammy, and come on. Visit with Stacy; it'll make ye feel better to see she's alright," Rory said, leaving the bathroom. Sam clumsily got back on his crutches and hobbled out. His little sister hopped out of the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Sammy! I'm so happy! You're okay! Well, kind of," Stacy exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, Sammy, it's all my fault," she added, her voice lowering and her head hanging. She started to sniffle.

"Hey, hey, nothing is your fault. Don't say that. It was an accident. A drunk driver hit us in the rain; there's nothing we could have done," Sam insisted, resting a hand on her head and pulling her close.

Stacy looked up at him with her wide, blue eyes, on the verge of tears. "But if me and Stevie weren't yelling you wouldn't have had to look away!"

"It wouldn't have mattered. The way the accident happened, it wouldn't have made a difference. It's not your fault, and it's not Stevie's fault. I'm not even gonna tell mom and dad you two were arguing, because it isn't gonna help anything," Sam replied. "Now come on, you're supposed to be happy to see me and if you're crying, that's not happy."

Stacy sniffled one last time and wiped her eyes. "I love you, Sammy," she said, hugging him again. She then turned her attention to the other teen. "I love you too, Mr. Rory." She wrapped her arms around him next, gripping him tight.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans came to visit shortly after, finally getting to ask Sam numerous questions including a step-by-step recounting of the incident.

Around noon, lunch came, the Evans parents went to talk with the doctor to find out when they could leave. Lunch was slightly better, but not by much. At least they would get home in time for dinner. Of course neither Rory nor Sam felt like cooking, so a delivered pizza would have to do despite Mrs. Evans' objection. She wanted them to all eat together, but the boys and her husband convinced her that they all just needed to get to their respective homes and relax.

A nurse insisted on wheeling Rory and Stacy to the front doors as part of hospital policy. As the van pulled up, Rory hesitated before getting in. Stevie noticed his apprehension and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, Mr. Rory. You have to be brave, like me and Sammy. Don't be scared of the car," the little boy encouraged, staring up at his older friend. "No more waiting, let's go!"

"How can I be afraid with a cheer like that?" Rory laughed. Shaking off his nervousness, he let Stevie lead him into the van, and even let the boy buckle his seat belt for him.

Once they arrived in the parking lot of the apartment complex, Mr. Evans and Rory helped Sam up the stairs to the apartment, making sure he stayed upright and balanced on his crutches. As soon as they were inside, he headed straight for the couch and propped his leg up with a cushion.

"You boys sure you wanna stay here tonight? Sam's gonna need a lot of help," Mr. Evans asked, addressing Rory.

"I think we can manage, dad," Sam answered before his boyfriend could even comment. "With some pizza and beer we can manage anything."

Mr. Evans looked at his son disapprovingly at the mention of alcohol, the first thing coming to mind being Sam's more recent admission about Sebastian getting Rory drunk. Sam held his hands up defensively, feigning fear of his father.

"Just kidding! We don't need pizza," the teen joked. His father rolled his eyes and gave them both hugs before leaving. Rory called in the pizza, a daunting task since the person who answered the phone seemed to have never heard an Irish accent before. He repeated the order three times before Sam snatched the phone from him and ordered.

"I can see why you were trying to hide your accent when we first met. People act like they can't understand you. They're just too stupid to pay attention," Sam muttered. "I never have any trouble understanding you."

Rory simply smiled at the comment, feeling slightly less agitated. Even if Sam understood him, other people acted like they didn't and he began to wonder how much of it was an act and how much of it was genuine.

After eating their pizza, they decided to watch a movie. Since Sam was the invalid for the time being, Rory relented to letting him select  _Avatar_. Sam kissed him lovingly, his eyes gleaming like a child who had just gotten a prize. Rory sat on the couch with him, Sam's foot propped up in his lap.

Halfway through the movie, Rory had fallen asleep. Normally Sam would have just carried him into the bedroom despite being the same height and size; however, with a hurt foot the last thing he needed to do was try to carry anything. He turned and scooted next to the slumbering teen and began to rub his belly. He then moved his hands over and started rubbing the boy's sides until finally he jerked awake, laughing.

"Sam! Stop! Ye' know I'm ticklish!" Rory whined, squirming away. He stood up and began to taunt his boyfriend, playfully lifting up the hem of his shirt to expose his stomach. "See what ye' get? Just a big tease for ye'."

Never one to back down from anything, Sam got up, forgetting his ankle until he lost his balance and toppled forward with a grunt. Rory caught him just in time so his face didn't meet floor, but Sam hit his knees pretty hard.

"Owwwwww!" the older teen wailed. "That hurt, you fucker!"

Rory snickered, trying not to laugh outright at the playful insult. "I guess ye' won't be tickling me anytime soon then, eh?" he asked. Sam grumbled at him as Rory helped the invalid get back up, Sam wrapping his arm around the boy's neck for balance until they got into the bedroom.

"That really did hurt, you know," Sam said quietly. "I guess you got me back good, huh?" He sat down on the edge of the bed, peeling off his shirt and tossing it aside. Next were his pants and underwear, leaving him exposed. It was the first time Rory had gotten a chance to fully inspect Sam's injury.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect ye' to jump up like that. I'm sure ye'll take it out on me later," the younger teen said with a wink. "Just not tonight. I 'ave to change ye'r dressing and then I'm ready for bed."

Sam groaned. "Do you really have to? I mean it isn't bleeding or anything, so why worry about it?" he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout that had long since lost its effect on Rory.

"Yes. The doctor said it keeps infection away. Ye' just sit there and I'll do the work." He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, returning with one of the plastic tubs from the hospital. Inside was fresh gauze, some sort of cream, medical tape, peroxide, and a box of tissues. "Slide back so just ye'r leg is hanging off the bed."

Rory emptied the tub onto a clean towel on the floor and got on his knees next to Sam's injured leg. He peeled the tape off and unwrapped the gauze, revealing an angry wound held together with stitches. Dried blood was smeared on the incision. He moved the tub directly under the extended limb and uncapped the peroxide. "This is gonna sting a bit methinks," he said softly. He poured the liquid over the exposed limb, the peroxide bubbling up.

"Ow Jesus, fuck, that shit hurts!" Sam whined, throwing his arm across his eyes. "Hurry up with that stuff, it burns!"

Ignoring Sam's angry words, Rory decided that perhaps all his boyfriend needed was something soothing to calm him down. Doing a quick scan of his brain, he picked out _Come Undone_  by Duran Duran. It was mellow enough to be soothing. He began to sing the song just loud enough to get Sam's attention.

"What are you-?"

Instead of answering, Rory just looked over at him and smiled as he sang, placing his finger over his lips, signaling silence. Sighing, Sam laid his head back again, wincing slightly but maintaining his temper as Rory dabbed at his now wet wound with cotton swabs, wiping away the dried blood.

_Who do ye' need, who do ye' love, when ye' come undone?_  Rory sang, knowing exactly what Sam's answer would be to the lyric.

Rory gingerly spread some of the disinfecting cream over the now-clean area, and placed a large piece of bandage over it.

_We'll make it alright, to come undone._

Ironically enough, at that moment the teen was unwrapping fresh gauze around the injury. Securing it in place with medical tape, he leaned over and planted a kiss on top of it and smiled. "Mam says anything can be healed with a kiss," he explained just as he finished the song. He went to the bathroom to wash and dry the bucket and came back to the bedroom to place the items back inside for later.

"Thank you," Sam whispered. "The song was beautiful, and the nursing was tolerable." He grinned at the boy, his tired eyes still bright. "Come on, get those clothes off and come to bed. I want to hold you."

Rory complied, stripping off his clothing and tossing it on top of Sam's. He switched off the light and then crawled into the bed, pulling the blankets over them both. Sam pulled him in for a kiss and then wrapped his arms around the boy. "I love you so much. I'm glad we're safe in our bed now. Where we belong."

"I love ye' too, Sammy. It's all over now. Ye'r leg will heal just fine. Ye'r parents will sort out the insurance and stuff with the truck, and before ye' know it, e'erything will be just fine," the younger teen said.

"You always know the right thing to say. You knew I was stressing over it, so-" Sam stopped when he realized the tired boy had fallen asleep in his arms.  _You knew I was stressing so you put it all in perspective for me. God how did I end up with someone so smart? I guess it offsets me being so stupid. I better never say that out loud or he'll kick my ass though._ He kissed the top of the boy's head and closed his eyes, drifting off into his own slumber.

-ooo-

"Holy shit, Rory, what happened to your face?" Blaine asked upon seeing his friend at school on Monday. He couldn't help but reach out and brush his fingertips across the healing cuts and bruises. Realizing what he was doing, he jerked his hand back, alarmed.

"We got in a car accident. Sam and I, and his brother and sister," Rory said calmly. "E'eryone is okay, but Sam got it the worst. Fractured ankle and a large cut on his leg. He's all wrapped up. He just has to use crutches for a while."

Blaine threw his arms around him in a tight hug. "Oh god, I'm so glad you're all okay! How did this happen? I mean, Sam is a really good driver, there's no way he just lost control."

Rory half smiled. "It was a drunk driver. It was raining, it was dark, and out o' nowhere a drunk driver hit us from the side. It's no big deal really. It's all taken care of."

Before they had time to continue the conversation, Kitty approached, Hunter and Brody on either side of her like bodyguards. Pursing her lips, she cocked her head, studying Rory's face.

"What happened, sweetie? Your boyfriend get all abusive? Did he hit you? Looks more like he might have broke a bottle over your head with those cuts. You know they have help programs for people like you. Battered wife syndrome they call it," Kitty blurted out in a single breath. She then gave her signature sickly sweet smile as she stared at him, challenging him to reply.

"He got in a car accident over the weekend," Blaine spoke up, gritting his teeth.

"Why don't you let him speak for himself? That's one of the many signs of battered wife syndrome, not speaking for yourself. We really can get you help before he does something truly damaging to you," Kitty went on. "Next time you might get a black eye."

"He's right. It was a car accident. Sam would  _ne'er_  hit me. He's better than that," Rory declared confidently. "Thanks, though, for ye'r concern," he finished, giving her an equally over-emphasized smile. "I'm excited about rehearsal. I'll see ye' there. I 'ave to get to class." He walked away, not giving her a second consideration, Blaine taking the cue and following him.

Kitty turned and watched the pair stroll down the hall. "He's cockier than I thought. Pity he's one of those unholy gays. Come on, let's go. The wannabe Warbler's cologne is making me nauseated."

It was all Blaine could do to keep from laughing his head off. When they were a safe distance away, he finally let the giggles overtake him. "I can't believe you just did that! It was awesome!"

Rory's cheeks flushed. "I think me heart almost stopped. I don't know where that came from, but I wasn't gonna let her keep saying awful things about Sam or let her get to me like that. I can't, not if we want our plan to work."

"Good point. I have to admit though, I'm really nervous about this. You're a hundred percent sure Marley and Ryder are on our side?" Blaine whispered, his eyes darting around as if he expected someone with a microphone to jump out at any time.

"I'm sure. She wants her chance to shine, too, and if it means going against Kitty, she'll do it. I just 'ave to trust her on Ryder." Rory paused and turned to face his friend. He put his hands on Blaine's upper arms and looked him in the eyes. "Blaine, we're gonna get our club back to the way it should be."

"I know. I trust you. I gotta say something though, something unrelated to glee club," Blaine replied, taking in a deep breath. "We haven't really talked about things, you and I. I mean I sort of made peace with Sam and we're working on fixing things, but I don't know how you feel about it all. I mean, I do, but I don't."

Rory smiled and moved his palm to cup Blaine's cheek. "I just want to forget it. It's o'er. As long as things with Sam are improving, that's what matters to me. We're all gonna be friends. It's working out. Don't worry. I forgave ye' a while back, ye' know."

"I just don't want things to be awkward. All three of us haven't been in the same room together since it happened," the shorter man replied.

"It'll only be awkward if ye' make it that way. I bet if we hung out, things would seem just like they always did. Besides," the younger teen paused as his smile turned into a look of remorse. "I think what happened with Kurt is punishment enough for ye' if that's what ye' really want. I'm so sorry, Blaine. I wish I had been here for ye'."

Blaine shook his head. "No, it's better than you weren't. It's my cross to bear, alone. I made a mistake and I'm paying the price for it. It's the way the world works."

"I hope someday he comes around and ye' get back together. He'll 'ave to see ye' belong together."

Moments like these were exactly why Blaine felt so strongly for the boy. He had grown so much in a year and a half, and it was amazing. Rory had become confident and wise. Blaine would have to dampen his feelings for Rory and settle for friendship while hoping Kurt would take him back, dampening his feelings for Rory.

Blaine pulled him in for a hug, a tear escaping his eye.

-ooo-

Rory, Blaine, Tina, Mitchell, Sugar, Artie, Marley, and Ryder all sat in the choir room, waiting nervously. At exactly three, Kitty strolled in with Hunter, Brody, and Jake. She looked around the room, noticing something seemed a little 'off' about the mood in the room.

"Did somebody die? You're all so miserable looking," Kitty asked. "Oh no, I bet Rory finally admitted he's the battered wife. I'm so sorry, honey, I told you there's programs for that." Her trademark smile appeared, just as demeaning as ever.

The Irish teen stood up, looking directly at Kitty. He forced himself to stay focused on her, not on the three boys behind her. He knew if he looked at them, he might chicken out. Finally he made his declaration.

"We've decided, Kitty, that we 'ave a vote o' no confidence in ye'. Glee club has always been about fun, and ye'r more about insults and being mean," he said.

Kitty laughed. "That's cute. In case you forgot, Figgins made  _me_  captain. That means what I say goes. There is no voting." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, pursing her lips in an arrogant smirk.

It was Artie's turn to assist. "Actually Kitty, it's in the bylaws for any club in the school that all captains and leaders be chosen by majority vote. It doesn't matter if Figgins appointed you. It's in the bylaws, and if he goes against that, we can take it to the school board. He won't risk that kind of trouble."

Kitty looked down at him angrily. "Listen, Wheels, don't quote laws and crap to me. I'm the queen of quoting scripture so I can guarantee you I can find a way to bypass your little game here."

"No, you can't," Artie argued calmly. "Even Coach Sylvester would have to abide by the rules, and there's nothing you can do about it. That said, I suggest we move on to the voting before wasting anymore time."

The Cheerio's face turned red with rage. "Fine. Get this over with. It's just a waste of time though."

"Then you should have nothing to worry about, should you?" Tina piped up. She passed out pre-printed ballots courtesy of Artie with everyone's name on it, checkboxes beside each. "Put your vote down and lay it on the piano and then we'll tally."

Kitty huffed and grabbed a pencil from the other girl's hand. She quickly checked her name and slammed the paper down on the piano, crossing her arms again. "Well hurry up!"

One by one, each student voted and placed their ticket on the piano. "Would you like to do the honors, Kitty?" Artie asked, picking the stack up and holding it out to her. She snatched them away and began to read the votes.

"Tina. Artie. Artie. Tina. Rory. Kitty. Brody. Hunter. Rory. Artie. Tina. Ryder," she read as she shuffled the papers.

"That's three each for Tina and Artie, two for Rory, and one each for Kitty, Hunter, Brody, and Ryder," Artie announced with a grin. "Looks like you're outvoted."

"One vote!?" Kitty screamed. "One fucking vote!?" She glared around the room, calculating in her head who must have voted for whom. "Marley! Ryder! It had to be you two! You two betrayed me! How could you?" she whined.

" _We_  betrayed you Kitty? I think you need to look behind you. In case you forgot, you only got one vote," Ryder pointed out, irritated she had tried to blame him and Marley.

"I'm willing to bet it was your vote. Maybe you should look at Hunter, Jake, and Brody. If they had voted for you, you would have won," Marley added. "I guess they don't think you're exactly a good leader, either."

Rory counted his blessings in his head. He thought Marley had understood his plan a little better than that. She wasn't supposed to vote for him; she was supposed to vote for Tina or Artie. He tried to recall their conversation to make sure he actually had told her that, but his memory failed him. Had Kitty's three lackeys voted for her, the plan would have failed. He could only assume then that Marley had voted for him because she thought that was the plan to begin with. Marley trusted him, and apparently so did Ryder. Thankfully it worked out in their favor.

"Since we have three for Artie and three for Tina, looks like they're going to be our co-captains," Blaine announced. He didn't even bother to hide his smirk. "If you can't deal with that Kitty, you can always quit."

Had life been a cartoon, steam would have been erupting from Kitty's ears she was so angry. She clenched her fists so hard that she snapped at least three of her fake nails, the others digging painfully in her palms. "Fine," she said through clenched jaw. "I can be a fair loser. Don't be surprised when we lose Nationals this year. It won't be  _my_  fault. It'll be the fault of crappy leadership."

"I guess we just have to see, won't we?" Rory asked.

"I think now is a good time to dismiss the club for the day, don't you?" Tina asked, looking at Artie for approval.

"I agree. Tina and I need time to prepare, and something tells me Kitty could use some cooling off time," the bespectacled boy said with a grin. "Club dismissed."

Kitty stormed out of the choir room, her three lackeys following a safe distance behind her.

Feeling like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, Rory took out his cell phone and immediately sent Sam a text message.

_Mission accomplished._

-ooo-

Rory decided it was time that he, Sam, and Blaine all stood in the same room, together, and finally get the impending awkwardness over with. Saturday was the perfect day. All three of them were off of school or work or both, and they could take it easy most of the day.

"What time did you tell Blaine to get here?" Sam asked from the bathroom, fixing his hair. He had to shower after their rigorous midday sexual escapade when Rory massaged his scalp so hard, it messed his lightly gelled hair up. He was also pretty sure Rory might have pulled a few stray hairs loose when he orgasmed in Sam's mouth.

"I told him to be here about six. We can eat around six thirty or so, and then hang out after," Rory answered, popping his head around the door. "Ye' look fine. This isn't the first time ye' had a shorter haircut."

Sam frowned. "I know, but it was a bit shorter than I wanted. I can't rock the spikey look or side part like you can. Not when it's this short."

Rory rolled his eyes and moved behind his boyfriend. "Stay still," he ordered. Sam simply held onto his crutches, letting the younger teen work his magic. After a moment of more gelling and combing, Rory was satisfied. "There. An offset part with a little flair in the front. Perfect." He backed up and looked in the mirror alongside Sam, smiling.

"Looks great. When did you get all stylish anyway?"

Rory blushed. "Andrew showed me. The guy from the show. He did a lot o' stuff with fashion and hair and stuff. He was really nice."

"He also happens to be Robert's ex," Sam stated matter-of-factly. Rory's jaw dropped at the revelation. Sam grinned. "Don't worry, it was a friendly split. They wanted different paths, so they had to go their own ways. I happen to know, however, that Robert called Andrew over the weekend."

Rory cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Do ye' think something might be…?"

"Possibly. Robert was all excited about it at work this week. He said they had a really good conversation last weekend, and they talked two more times over the course of the week. Andrew's going to come down for a visit. Robert wants to show him the station," Sam explained as he hobbled out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen, Rory in tow.

"Are ye' thinking what I'm thinking?" Rory asked, a light bulb going off in his head.

"Two steps ahead of you, babe. I know you got mad the last time I did this to you, but-"

"What day, what time, and what do ye' want me to cook?" the younger teen interrupted. Sam turned and gave him a bewildered look. "I know, I got mad at ye' before, and it is kind o' bothersome, but this is my chance to pay Andrew back for his help and ye'r chance to maybe help friends find love."

Sam chuckled at the boy. "Good outlook. Sorry I didn't ask first though. Robert was going on about trying to figure out something they could do and I just kind of blurted it out. It isn't until weekend after next anyway. I can cancel if you don't want to do it," he added, trying to save himself from the wrath of Rory Flanagan.

Rory waved his hand dismissively. "O' course I want to do it. They're our friends, and I want to help them out."

The blonde smiled and leaned on one crutch, reaching out and pulling Rory to him by his shirt. He planted a soft kiss on his mouth that quickly turned much more heated before Sam remembered they were soon having their friend over and being riled up wasn't going to help anything.

"You've changed, Rory," Sam said softly. "Not in a bad way. I think winning this competition has boosted your confidence. You seem like you're standing up for yourself, like with that Kitty bitch, and against Sebastian." His eyes were a strange kind of sad and happy at the same time. "I'm proud of you."

Rory wrapped his arms around Sam's waist. "I think maybe ye'r right. It feels good though, to feel confident. I feel more in control of meself, and a little more… relaxed."

"Yeah, you  _were_  kind of uptight," Sam joked. Rory glared at him. "Hey, just kidding! You did seem to worry a lot more. Stressed out and stuff."

The brunette sighed happily. "I think I just started to realize what's worth worrying about. Right now, I need to worry about getting dinner on so it'll be done on time." He plucked Sam on the nose with his finger and turned toward the fridge.

"Oh god, you're picking up Michelle's habits! Now you're going to be poking everyone's nose and saying beep next!" Sam laughed. "That's alright, it's not like you get to poke things very often."

"Very funny, Samuel Evans," Rory called as he was bent down in the refrigerator, fishing for ingredients for his dinner dish. "Be nice or else ye' might owe me a poke o' me own again." He was only half joking. As much as he loved giving himself up to Sam's sizable manhood, he still had the occasional craving to envelop himself in the heat of his boyfriend, an act only carried out twice before.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway," Sam said, trying to change the subject. He knew it was something Rory wanted to do again, but the last time it had been rather painful and he ached for days. It was then that he invented the silly mantra that only a real man could handle a cock in the ass. He wanted to be able to give that to his boyfriend, but truthfully he was scared. It was silly, but it was honest. It was something he had thought about a few times before, particularly when he had been unusually rough with the boy, wondering if he deserved to be taken so brutally as well.

"Ye' got quiet all of a sudden. Euro for ye' thoughts?" Rory asked, now standing at the counter, chopping vegetables.

Sam shook his head even though Rory wasn't facing him. "Nah, just thinking about tonight. I don't know exactly what you're expecting though. I mean, I've seen Blaine twice while you were gone. Once was the big talk, the other time was at the party, and everything seemed fine."

"It's more for his benefit than ours. He's still nervous about being alone with us. He's afraid it will be awkward. The only way to get o'er it is to jump right in," Rory explained, still focused on his task. "I know it's gonna take time for this whole thing to just be a distant memory, but I think we can still be friends like before. Or close enough."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I'm still mad at him, but I don't want to lose his friendship either. I guess it's like you and me. Sometimes we get on each other's nerves or get mad at each other, but we still love each other and get over it," the blonde suggested.

Rory smiled, still not turning around. "Exactly. He made a big mistake, Sam, and he's paying for it, but he's still our friend. He's Blaine. We still love him. Now if he can just see that e'erything will be alright."

"I bet he will," Sam said. "I'm gonna just sit over here and watch TV until he gets here. I can't be too useful right now I guess." Feeling impotent, he went to the living room and plopped down on the couch, tossing his leg up on the cushion. He was sick of the bandages, sick of the pain, and sick of the stinging every time Rory redressed his wound. He only nice thing was the occasional painkiller he was allowed if his ankle was particularly painful.

"Blaine just texted me. He should be here in about fifteen minutes," Rory called out. He had no doubts that everything would go smoothly, that things would fall into place and seem just like they had before the forbidden kiss.

Like clockwork, Blaine arrived right on time. Sam answered the door, welcoming him in with a tight hug. Stopping by the kitchen, Blaine gave Rory a hug as well before the boy shooed both he and Sam to the living room until dinner was ready.

"How much longer do you have to use the crutches?" Blaine asked, sitting next to Sam on the couch. It felt weird to be sitting in the exact spot he had been in when his lips had pressed against his friend's.

"Truthfully? Until it stops hurting," Sam laughed, propping his foot up on the coffee table. "The doctor said it's a fracture, so I have to keep my weight off of it for a while. I'll have to take it easy and get an x-ray before I can go without the crutches, and even then I gotta be careful."

"Wow, I'm really sorry. That's crazy what happened to you guys. I was happy when Rory told me the kids were okay too though. He said you got the worst of it," Blaine said.

Sam half-smiled. "Yeah, I got the short end of the stick I guess. But I'd rather be the one going through this crap than Rory or either of my siblings. If something happened to them, it would break my heart."

"I know what you mean. Let's hope we don't have to worry about it anytime soon."

"Yeah, no kidding. If something happened to Rory, I dunno what I'd do. The kid takes care of me, you know? Sometimes I wonder if I let him take care of me too much. Like I should be more of a man and take care of him for a change," Sam lamented, not even realizing he was speaking his thoughts out loud.

Blaine put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Rory does what he does because he loves you. You take care of him, too. You guys take care of each other. That's what you're supposed to do."

"This is getting deep," Sam laughed. "How about you update me on  _your_  life. We haven't gotten a chance to really talk and catch up. Too much going on at the party and all." He wondered if it were an inconsiderate question, knowing how things with Kurt had gone.

Blaine faked a smile. "Everything's okay. Just keeping busy to keep my mind off Kurt. He said he needs time right now, so I wanna give him that. I want him back so bad, but I know I messed up and gotta deal with it. I figure if I keep busy enough though, I won't have time to be down."

"That's a good way to look at it I guess. My honest opinion is, I think Kurt will take you back eventually. Knowing him, he's probably confused and hurt, but I don't think he could be without you either."

The brunette gave a genuine smile this time. Things were slightly awkward with the seemingly structured way they were talking, but the important thing was they were having actual conversation.

Sam and Blaine continued to talk about random stuff for a few more minutes until Rory called for them to come fix their plates. By the time they finished eating, things seemed more normal than they had in quite a while. They were talking and laughing, nobody mentioning anything relating to the kiss or the aftermath. When it was time for Blaine to go home, Sam gave him a strong hug and reminded him that he was always welcome in their home.

It was those words that brightened Blaine's heart the most. Rory had been the one to make the invite to dinner, but to hear Sam actually tell him that he was welcome was major progress and it was a huge relief. His entire ride home, however, all he could think about was wishing he could tell Kurt about the dinner and the crazy conversations they had, and moreover, that his friendship with Sam was mending nicely. He could only hope that Kurt was also willing to let him mend their own broken relationship.

 


	46. Episode 46: Revival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: Don't kill me. X_X I know, it has been well over a month and a half since I updated, but I promise it hasn't been of laziness! It has been because I have been working so diligently on my crossover fic. It should be ready for release by the end of April, and like I keep saying, I am so excited about it! TVTime has done an excellent job with the beta and I am going over everything with a fine tooth comb to make sure it is just right! So in the mean time, forgive the lack of updates on TMatL._  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Recap:**  A truck crashed into the vehicle Sam was driving, leaving Rory and Stacy in unconscious states. Sam and Stevie came to the rescue and got them to safety. Rory's plan to take back the glee club from Kitty was a success and now Tina and Artie are captains with Miss Pillsbury as their sponsor. Sam, Rory, and Blaine finally hung out together and now things seem to be going just fine and that's what you missed on Glee!

**Episode 46: Revival**

Rory bent down on the floor, helping Sam to slide his pants on over his injured leg. It had been another week and while his gash was healing on schedule, his ankle was still giving him trouble.

"I really think ye' need to go back to the doctor and 'ave him look at it," Rory insisted, standing back up. "It's still swollen and tender. Something tells me at this point it should be getting better."

"I really don't want to go. He's just gonna say I have to wait longer. There's no point in wasting the money on a doctor's visit," Sam replied, sighing.

Rory went to the closet and picked out a shirt for his boyfriend to wear. "I like ye' in ye'r plaids. Put this one on," he said, handing Sam a green and blue patterned shirt. He watched Sam's strong muscled arms as the elder teen pulled the garment on. Rory stood before him, moving Sam's fingers away and buttoning the shirt himself.

"I can get that you know," Sam objected.

"I know. But if ye' do it, it's one less chance I get to touch ye'. O' course I'll probably be tearing it off of ye' later," the younger teen said seductively. "For now, let me help with ye'r shoes. Dad will be here any minute."

Sam grunted as Rory pushed one shoe on, and then the padded sandal for his injured foot. "I really hate having to get dad to tote me around like this. I know it's a pain in the ass for him, and I can drive as long as it's an automatic. I don't need my left foot to push the pedals. We just can't afford a new truck until the insurance comes through and they're being dickish about it."

"Dickish, huh?" came the deep voice of his father standing in the doorway. "Sorry, the door was unlocked. Either that or maybe I just wanted a sneak peek at- No, I can't even make a joke about that, it's too weird even for me," he shuddered playfully and waved his hand dismissively.

"Hi, dad. I'm ready to go when you are. I really appreciate you taking me," Sam said as Rory helped him onto his feet. Sam was getting tired of having to be helped so much, and he was probably capable of doing much more on his own than he was actually doing. In truth, Rory's babying him might be doing more harm than good.

"No problem, son. We'll get the dickeshness taken care of soon. You gotta get that foot under control first anyway. When are you going to the doctor again? It looks like it's still swollen," Mr. Evans observed.

"Gosh dad, between you and Rory… I dunno when I'm gonna go. I guess when I get tired of hearing my boyfriend bug me about it," Sam joked, winking at the younger boy. Rory picked up a pillow from the bed and threw it at Sam, hitting him in the head. "Hey! Joking!"

Rory smirked. "Joking me arse, Sammy Evans. Just ye' wait, I'll get ye'r whiny arse to the doctor by the end o' the week." Sam got ready to protest, but Rory gave him 'the look' that said he needed to drop it.

"On that note I think it's time to go. I hope Robert plans on buying lunch. My brain needs fuel," Sam said. Robert had called him an hour earlier to ask for help on a project, needing the brainstorming prowess of a musician.

"Be home by midnight or ye' might turn into a pumpkin," Rory teased. Sam rolled his eyes, gave his boyfriend a quick peck, and then left with his father.

As soon as Sam and Mr. Evans were gone, Rory went to his desk and turned on his computer. He was set to have a Skype session with his parents shortly and he wanted to have the program up and running when they were ready.

Not long after logging on, he saw his parents' Skype username turn green, signifying they were now online. He sent them the invite and within seconds he was seeing his mom and dad on screen. He smiled and waved, anxious to spend some time with them one on one.

-ooo-

"Hi honey, I'm home!" Sam called out, ambling into the apartment. "Bye dad, thanks for the ride again," he added, speaking to his father and bidding him goodbye. "Rory? I'm home!" he called out again. As far as he knew, his boyfriend didn't have any plans to go anywhere, and if he did, he surely would have sent a text.

"Rory?" The teen wasn't in the kitchen or the living room. That meant he was either in the bathroom or the bedroom. Sam flipped on the bedroom light, seeing his quarry lying on his side of the bed. His eyes were closed, but he looked like he might be awake.

Sam plopped down on the edge of the bed next to him. He placed his hand on Rory's shoulder, noticing the boy's tear streaked face. He leaned down and kissed him on the side of his head before speaking.

"Rory? What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Sam asked nervously. "Did I do something? If I did, I'm sorry."

Rory opened his eyes and sniffled. "I'll be alright," he mumbled. Sam gave him his own 'look' that told him to stop being stoic and be honest.

"You're not alright. What's wrong? I can't fix it if you don't tell me," the blonde repeated.

Rory sighed heavily, staring forward at Sam's side. "While ye' were gone, I talked with me mam and pap on Skype."

"Oh? I guess something bad happened?"

"It was just what we talked about. And e'erything else in general," the brunette answered quietly. Sam gently stroked his side, encouraging him to go on. "We talked about this summer. If I'm coming home or not."

"Oh…" Sam said almost silently. "Well, how did that go?"

The air was thick as Sam waited for his boyfriend to respond. "I don't know. It's up to me. If I wanna come home, I can. If I want to stay here, I can do that too. Or I can e'en visit just for a couple weeks."

"Oh, well, what's so bad about that? You'll be coming right back," the older teen asked, even though he preferred not to entertain the summer issue already.

"Just a hard decision. I miss me family, but if I go, I'll miss ye' too. I just 'ave to think about it. E'ery single year I'm gonna 'ave to think about it."

"Well it isn't worth crying over. You know I'll support you, whatever you decide." Sam continued to run his fingers through Rory's soft brown hair. "So are you sure that's it?"

Rory shook his head. "No. There's something else, but it's stupid."

"Well don't worry about it. I'm used to stupid stuff, so tell me."

Rory didn't speak. Sam's first inclination was to urge him on further, but he thought better of it and decided not to push him. Instead he simply sat there. He ran the back of his hand against the boy's cheek, which Rory took within his own fingers and pulled Sam's palm in to kiss. He stayed in that position, latched onto Sam's arm, for several minutes, until it was actually uncomfortable. Sam didn't have the heart to say anything about it though. When he couldn't take the awkward position anymore, he pulled the boy up and into his arms, hugging him tight, one hand back to drawing through his hair.

"Please tell me what's wrong," Sam said softly. "Let me help you."

Rory leaned his head against Sam's chest and whimpered. "I want to be a kid again," he whispered.

"What do you mean 'be a kid again'?"

Rory paused, sniffling and gathering his thoughts. "Sam, I feel like I've grown up way too fast. Last year I was a fifteen-year-old closeted schoolboy with few friends and no romantic prospects. Now, I 'ave the most wonderful boyfriend, but I 'ave to work, and worry about bills and money and choosing to stay or go…" He continued to ramble on, finally drifting into unintelligible muttering.

"Do you regret… do you regret being with me?" Sam asked, his heart pounding. He hadn't expected to come home to this and it was putting him on edge.

The younger teen sat up abruptly and stared into Sam's eyes. "No. No, I will ne'er regret that," he asserted. "I guess I'm just tired of so much responsibility so soon. Sam, I'm almost seventeen. Not e'en an adult yet. How can I- No, why do I 'ave to-"

Sam silenced him with a kiss – a simple, affectionate kiss with no ulterior motive of sex, just calming. "We've both grown up too fast, okay? I don't talk about what happened between junior and senior year, when my father lost his job, and I may never get the nerve to talk about it, but trust me, I had to grow up fast too." Rory looked at him with pained eyes, pleading for some sort of answer to his problem.

"You've grown up really fast. I mean, look at you. You had to go through some serious shit, too much to name, and things have just happened super quick. Honestly, I think it all happened this way because our parents put so much faith in the two of us that they wanted to help us. I don't think they realized how much it hurts sometimes to be so grown so soon," Sam went on. "When they gave us the opportunity, we sorta jumped on it without thinking it through, but it's kind of too late to go back. We said we'd do this, now we have to."

"I just need a break. So much pressure, so much on me shoulders."

Sam smiled. "I know. You  _do_  have a lot on you. But look at it this way. The competition is over. That stress is gone. Done. You succeeded with that. A victory. You and Miss Pillsbury's plan worked and now you have the glee club back, with Artie and Tina in charge. Another victory, and it is now their responsibility, not yours."

"But-" Rory started to say, but Sam interrupted him.

"Look, just hush a second and listen to me. You've done your part. Next on the list—the issue with Blaine and me? I think you saw things are going well. Now I can't do anything about working, that's just something we have to do, but I can take over the money for a while if you want. I can take as many stresses off of you as I can for a while so you can get a break. I can't do it forever, but I can for a little bit."

Rory finally laughed. "No, I think I'll keep an eye on the money. Ye' aren't so good at that." He reached forward and touched Sam's cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. "You're good at plenty o' other things though. So many things that make ye' special."

"Shut up, Rory," Sam replied playfully. "Look, I want you to know you don't have to take the world on by yourself. We grew up fast, but I'm your boyfriend. I'm half of this relationship and I can help you. We work on it together. Got it?"

Rory nodded his head and smiled. "Yeah. I got it. I think I just needed to complain a little bit," the younger teen admitted.

"That's what I'm here for. And now you're smiling, so mission accomplished," Sam said. He leaned back in, this time his kiss was much more passionate. It was hungry and desperate; the sign of a man who needed to experience his boyfriend. "Do you want a little stress relief?"

Rory chuckled. "Sure. That'd be great!" Sam wasted no time in pulling off his shirt and then helping the younger boy out of his own clothes.

"You just lay back and I'm gonna make you feel really good. Relax and let me do all the work," Sam instructed in a seductive tone. Rory did as he was told, lying back, head on hands, and gazing downward as his blonde boyfriend began to work thick trouty lips on his most intimate place.

-ooo-

The following weekend, Mr. and Mrs. Evans invited their boys over for a family dinner. It had been a while since they had a traditional meal together, and every single one of them had missed it.

When they arrived, Stevie was all too eager to help his brother get around on his crutches. The accident had seemed to strengthen the bond they already had, Stevie realizing just how much of a young man he was starting to become. He helped Sam take his coat off and later led him to the dinner table and assisted the eldest blonde in getting comfortable in his chair. Sam wasn't incapacitated by any means, but he enjoyed letting Stevie feel like a grown up and was eating up the attention from his little brother.

Stacy was quieter than usual, still feeling pangs of guilt when she saw her brother's injured foot. No matter how many times Sam and Rory reassured her that it was neither her nor Stevie's fault that it had happened, she was convinced that arguing with her brother didn't help matters. The older boys both had to admire her for wanting to accept responsibility.

Mrs. Evans had gone all out for their gathering. She had baked a turkey with dressing and several sides, including mashed potatoes, gravy, corn on the cob, and green bean casserole. Stacy had helped her prepare the apple pie for dessert, the little girl having insisted that if she had survived a car crash, she could manage to peel apples with the peeler and not hurt herself.

Conversation was pleasant until Mr. Evans brought up the topic of Rory's plans for the rest of the semester and any aspirations he had for senior year.

"Right now, I'll be happy to make it through the end of the year without goin' crazy," Rory replied between bites. "So much going on with glee club, and I 'aven't decided if I want to join the swim team again, and then figuring out what I need to do for next year."

"You're taking a lot more on yourself than you really have to, right Ror?" Sam interrupted, recalling the conversation from earlier in the week.

Rory smiled and nodded, also trying to remind himself that he needed to quit taking so much upon himself. "Maybe I will see if Coach Roz will let me practice with the team some but not compete. Then I can get the exercise and fun without the stress of competition. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like a great idea, dear. Then maybe next year you can compete again if you have less on your plate," Mrs. Evans said, giggling when she noticed Rory inspecting his partially full dinner plate. "I just mean when you have fewer responsibilities," she clarified.

"Oh… Oh right," Rory said, blushing. He tried to hide his embarrassment by focusing on buttering his cob of corn instead of making further comment.

"Have you thought about when you want to take your SATs?" Mr. Evans inquired. Seeing the slightly puzzled look on the boy's face, he assumed not. "You need to look into that. You can take your pre-SATs this year, and your SATs next year. You need a good score to get into whatever college you want to go to."

The Irish teen nodded his head, filing away the information. "You'll have to study hard, getting good scores is hard," Mrs. Evans added, kicking her husband's foot under the table. "Of course you don't have to have good scores if you have other aspirations outside of college, so it all depends on what you want to do."

"What did ye' get on ye'r SAT scores, Sam?" Rory asked curiously. He hadn't noticed that his boyfriend had become uncomfortably silent during the turn in conversation. Sam didn't say anything, but instead gave his mother a pleading look with his eyes. "Sam? What did ye' get?" Rory repeated.

"Go on, honey. You can tell him," Mrs. Evans encouraged, giving her son a warm smile.

Sam was staring down at his plate, his face a deep shade of crimson, his mouth turned in a frown. "I uh… I…" He felt uncomfortable talking about this in front of everyone. He felt like he was on display. His parents already knew about his scores, and his siblings were too young to really grasp the meaning of it all, but Rory would understand exactly what it meant. "I failed. Twice. I got really low scores. As Figgins put it, my scores are usually given to monkeys," he muttered, his voice shaking slightly.

"I never did like that man," Mrs. Evans said softly. "Not a good way to encourage someone at all. Mr. Schuester is a much better educator. He even taught Sam how to tie his shoes." She bit her lip, suddenly realizing that her mention of Sam's shoe tying difficulty wasn't helping matters.

Rory didn't know how to respond. He hadn't expected Sam to fail something as important as a college assessment test. Immediately, his thoughts went to the dyslexia.

"That's not ye'r fault Sammy, it's because o' ye'r reading problem. Ye'r plenty smart; ye' don't need some stupid test to tell ye' that," Rory offered, hoping it would bring his boyfriend some comfort.

"No," Sam said flatly. "I'm not smart. Smart people don't fail tests like that. Smart people get into college. They don't flunk out and end up a big stupid—"

"Alright, that's enough," Mr. Evans interjected. It did no good, however.

"A big, stupid dumbass with no future!" Sam finished. Humiliated and no longer hungry, Sam shuffled his crutches in front of him and quickly mounted, shambling out of the dining room and toward his previous bedroom door.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchanged saddened looks back and forth, wishing they had never broached the topic at all.

"You know he's sensitive about that; you didn't need to bring it up," the woman scolded her husband quietly. "Now he's upset."

"Well you didn't have to bring up his shoes, either," Mr. Evans muttered back, feeling sheepish for not thinking about the possible direction the conversation might take.

"But I don't understand," Rory said softly. "Sam didn't fail. He graduated. He just didn't go to a college, but he passed e'erything." His face was filled with confusion and worry.

Mr. Evans opened his mouth to explain, but his wife stifled him. "Go talk to him dear. He can explain what happened and what he decided to do," she said. The teen pushed back his chair and stood up, slowly leaving the table. "Rory, just understand this before you go in there. Sam has extra obstacles with his dyslexia, and when his scores came back, he was faced with some tough choices. I hope you can respect that for him."

"Yes, ma'am. O' course. Sam always has his reasons, e'en if I don't always understand them. I'll be right back, with Sammy," the teen replied with an air of confidence. As he walked off he could hear Stacy and Stevie asking questions about why Sam was upset, what SATs were, and why Sam didn't go to college.

Rory slowly opened the door to what was once his and Sam's bedroom. It was mostly bare except for a few boxes of miscellaneous junk and some of the children's toys. Apparently it was being used for overflow for the time being. Just setting foot in the quarters brought back a flood of memories. He stood there, his eyes roaming across the room as he remembered the first time he had set foot inside it, the first time they kissed, the first time the two of them had made love in there, stumbling in through the window drunk, taking care of Sam when he was sick, lying around when he was recovering from his own wounds, sleeping night after night next to each other, sitting on Sam's bed playing video games or watching movies. Life was so much simpler back then. It wasn't like it had been that long ago, only a year, but for some reason it felt like a decade.

"Hey," Sam mumbled quietly, the teen sitting on the floor, up against the wall where the nightstand used to be.

Rory stepped all the way inside and shut the door behind him, snapping out of his memories and back to the present to focus on his purpose for coming in. He stood over Sam, looking down at him. "E'eryone wants ye' to come back to the table to finish ye'r dinner and spend time with us," he said simply.

Sam turned his head to the side, refusing to make any kind of eye contact. "I'm not hungry anymore," he replied in the same tone as before.

"Sam, there's no reason to be so upset o'er this. It's just some silly test. It doesn't mean ye'r stupid just because ye' did bad on it."

"Yes it does!" the blonde snapped, turning his attention to his boyfriend. "It's one thing to fail the SATs, it's another to bomb it so bad I'm compared to monkeys! Two times! Two time monkeys and they aren't even in business!" His eyes were turning pink, tears welling up. "You don't know what it's like sitting in the principal's office and being told that."

Under different circumstances, Rory would have fallen on the floor in peals of laughter over Sam's reference to 'monkey business' and his misunderstanding of the term a long time ago, but this was hardly to time to be amused. The brunette crouched down on the carpet, sitting on his knees in front of Sam. "No. No, I don't. That's a rotten thing for him to say. Ye'r not stupid, Sam. If ye' were stupid, ye' wouldn't 'ave graduated, and don't say ye' just barely did, because I know what ye'r grades were. They were fine, especially considering ye'r handicap."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed, blinking back his impending waterworks. "That test is the reason I couldn't get into college. Every single college worth a damn wants good SAT scores, and to apply with something that low is a joke. Admissions would laugh so hard their lungs would pop. They'd throw bananas at me and make gorilla noises I bet!"

Rory placed one hand on Sam's shoulder, the other he used to caress the teen's cheek. "No they wouldn't, and even if they did, e'eryone can use a banana a day." His attempt at humor having failed, he went on. "Who says ye' 'ave to go to college anyway? Not e'eryone goes to college to follow their dreams," he pointed out. "I 'ave to go because a teaching degree is required to be a teacher, but what about ye'r dreams? They don't require a degree…"

"Nobody is going to take someone seriously who didn't even bother to go. I didn't even try, Rory. I knew it was hopeless. I'm never going to succeed like I should. I'm too dumb," Sam lamented. "I couldn't even tie my own shoes until I was fifteen for Christ's sake."

The younger teen frowned and furrowed his brow, ignoring the comment about Sam's shoes; another thing his boyfriend was focusing on entirely too much. "That's a right crock o' bullshit Samuel Evans and ye' know it!" he blurted out harshly. "Ye'r dream is to record ye'r own album, and ye' don't need college to do that! College can't teach talent, and ye' 'ave all the talent in the world! Ye'r already in the right direction, don't ye' think? Working at the station… ye'r getting experience in the music industry."

"That's not enough," Sam said shaking his head. "People want more."

"I bet most of those guys in the music industry ne'er went to college. I bet a lot of them didn't e'en finish high school. Ye' can still follow ye'r dream without school," Rory insisted. "Ye'r not stupid, Sammy. Ye' may not be the best at school, ye' may not be the best in math or readin' or writin', but ye' 'ave other skills that make up for it. Ye' 'ave talent and heart, and ye' pick up on things pretty quickly."

The blonde didn't say anything, but just looked up at the boy with wide eyes. They were eyes filled with hurt and embarrassment. "But even if I can record my own album without going to college, what am I supposed to do in the mean time? Nobody's gonna hire a failure who didn't even pass a stupid test. Don't you think you deserve someone who can get a better job to take care of you? Make more money so you can live in luxury?"

"Oh stop. Just stop," Rory barked. "Ye'r just talking a whole bunch of shit right now and ye' know it. Ye' make fine money doing ye'r job right now, and ye' keep working at it and ye'll get a better position and maybe e'en move on to something else. I'm happy with our life the way it is. I don't need a bunch o' luxury and crap. I need ye' to be happy and work toward ye'r dream like I am.  _That's_  what I deserve, and so do ye'."

"But-"

"But nothing. Stop makin' excuses; stop playin' the pity victim because it's starting to piss me off! It's… It's dickish!" Rory said. "It's a stupid test.  _Fuck_  it. Like I said, ye' don't need to go to school to make an album and learn the things ye'r interested in. I don't care if ye' passed, or failed with a zero. Ye'r plenty smart to me and ye' can't be a monkey anyway. Ye'r not hairy enough."

Sam cracked a smile. "It's just embarrassing to do so bad compared to everyone else. Even if I don't have to go to college, the option would have been nice. It would have been nice to have a score worth being proud of," he admitted. "Especially when I was compared to a damned chimpanzee." There was an awkward silence for several seconds before Sam decided to continue. "I didn't want you to know about it."

"Why? Did ye' think I was gonna make fun o' ye'? Break up o'er it? What?"

The elder teen shrugged. "I… I dunno. I just didn't want you to be disappointed in me."

"I'm not. It would disappoint me though if ye' didn't give me a big smile and come back to dinner," Rory said smugly. "Ye'r mammy made all that delicious food and ye'r gonna pass it up sitting in here moping about some stupid test that don't e'en matter anymore? Now  _that_  is something to be disappointed about."

Sam finally smiled all the way. "I guess you're right. I just don't want you to not be proud to be with me. I thought if you knew I failed, you'd feel ashamed or something."

"No. I won't feel ashamed of ye' as long as ye' are trying to follow ye'r dream and get what ye' want. When ye' give up, that's when I'd be disappointed."

Rory stood up and held out his hand to help Sam up. "Come on. Food's getting cold and I'm not bringing ye' any bananas."

Sam took Rory's outstretched hand and stood up, pulling the boy into a tight hug before kissing him. "You're gonna be an amazing teacher, you know? You're a good motivator," Sam said, grinning. "You even made me feel like less of a loser for being compared to apes."

"We'll see how I do," Rory said calmly. "I'll try me best. Now… food."

Sam followed him out of the bedroom and back down the hall to the dining room. Nobody mentioned the test again, and nobody mentioned his outburst or retreat. Things picked up just as if nothing had happened; even the kids asked no questions or made any comments. Instead, the conversation turned to sports and the entire incident was forgotten until later.

Sam wrapped his arms around his boyfriend in their bed, nuzzling the back of the boy's head with his chin. "Thanks, for earlier. I need that," he said softly. "I just want to be the best I can be for you."

Rory smiled. "Ye' already are. We 'ave our faults, but I'm proud ye'r me boyfriend."

"I'm proud of you, too," Sam said. "So uh… you wanna do something we can both take pride in?" he asked devilishly, pressing his body against the other teen's.

The Irishman giggled. "Maybe. Slip me some o' ye'r American pride?" He knew it sounded incredibly cornball, but he didn't care. Sam always got a kick out of his efforts at lame dirty talk.

"How about a nice, big, thick banana? By the time I'm done with you, you're gonna feel real American pride for handling it all night."

Rory giggled again, turning around and then shifting to sit on top of Sam. "I guess I'll 'ave to be on top though. Take it easy on ye'r foot and all. I can ride ye' like one o' those horses. We 'aven't done that much; ye'r always on top. Might be fun to change things up a little."

"Maybe so. So I guess you better get the saddle nice and wet and you can mount up, right?" Sam suggested. After a moment they both burst into laughter. "Okay we sound way too goofy to be horny and fucking!"

"No kidding! Let's just go to bed," Rory agreed.

"Oh no. No, I didn't mean that. I just meant we should let go of the cowboy and horse analogy. I just wanna feel you on top of me, in control for once," Sam admitted. "I uh, I want to watch you ride me. I wanna see how well you can handle it on your own."

"I think I can manage that. Just get comfortable and I'll take the lead. But let's stop with the banana comments. They're getting' stale like a rotten plantain," Rory replied, throwing off the sheets and moving down to begin one of his favorite tasks.

-ooo-

It was the last week of February and both Valentine's Day and Rory's birthday had passed. They had agreed to keep things low key for both events, wanting to save up some money. They kept Valentine's a simple dinner and night at home cuddling on the couch with a movie, eating popcorn followed by a marathon session of sex.

Rory's birthday was kept easy as well. Mrs. Evans baked a cake and they invited Mitchell, Tina, Blaine, Sugar, and Artie over for a modest cookout. By the time it was over, Rory had gotten some new clothes, a video game, and a couple of gift cards. Sugar went overboard as always and gave him a one hundred dollar gift card for iTunes and an AppleTV. She insisted that he keep it, declaring that 'every home should have one'.

The last week of the month was always a little stressful for the boys. That was when all of the bills came due. Their parents still covered the rent, but setting aside the money for utilities was almost painful when they would rather spend it on luxuries and fun stuff.

Sam came in the door, home from going over insurance paperwork with his parents. Almost a month and the insurance company was still giving them a hard time. As he strolled past the dinging table, he picked up the mail and started sifting through it. There were an unusual amount of envelopes in the box and just seeing the return addresses made him nervous. Lima Water and Sewage. Cox Communications. Ohio Electric Power Company. AT&T Wireless. He sat down in the living room, his ankle sore from huffing up the stairs. He had been able to get rid of the crutches, but still had to be easy on his foot, keeping his ankle wrapped with an ACE bandage for support.

"Account past due?" he asked himself out loud as he started to read the power bill. He checked the amount and noticed it was not only twice the usual amount to pay for both months, but also a late fee. He opened the Cox bill next, reading the same warning about the account being overdue, also with a late fee added to the total. Becoming agitated, he quickly opened the rest of the envelopes to find more of the same. "Why are these all past due? Rory should have sent off all the checks already," he said quietly.

"Rory!" Sam called out loudly as he limped into their bedroom. His boyfriend was sitting at the desk, working on homework. Rory stopped his writing and looked up at the older teen, seeing a look of anger on his face.

"What's wrong, Sammy? E'erything okay?" he asked timidly, eyeing the folded papers in the older boy's hand.

Sam threw down the stack of bills on top of Rory's homework, his face red, lips drawn in a tight scowl. "What's this about?"

Rory picked up the papers and began to sift through them, immediately picking out words such as 'Past Due', 'Overdue', 'Late Fee', and on one, 'Second Warning'. His eyes went wide as he gulped nervously. "These are the bills for February…"

"No, they're the bills for  _January and February_ ," Sam corrected. "None of them got paid. Why not?" he asked crossly, arms folded across his chest.

The younger teen searched his brain for an explanation. "I… I guess I forgot…" he finally answered sullenly. "I'm sorry."

"You forgot? Rory, you're supposed to be keeping up with this stuff! You're in charge of the finances, and that includes the bills in case you forgot," Sam barked. "Look at all that money we're losing in late fees! I'm no math whiz but off the top of my head it's about a hundred bucks. Never mind that this is a hell of a lot of money to have to dish out at one time," he added.

Rory reached for words but found none. He hadn't seen Sam this kind of angry with him before, and it was heartbreaking. "I'm sorry Sam! I just forgot! There was so much going on with the audition and contest and getting the club back together, it just slipped me mind."

Sam sighed, annoyed. "Do you think the bill collectors care about all that when they go to shut off our power and water? Cell phones? Cable and internet? They shut that stuff off and we gotta pay a reconnect fee on top of everything else."

"I said I'm sorry! I don't know what else to say, Sam! I made a mistake!" Rory raised his voice. "It won't happen again!"

"You're supposed to be the responsible one! I mean damn, all you gotta do is balance the checkbook and send out the checks for the bills every month. It should have taken you fifteen minutes tops to write out four checks, stick them in envelopes, put stamps on them and slide them in the box."

Rory's bottom lip began to tremble and his eyes began to water. Sam had every right to be mad at him. Even with everything else going on, he should have remembered to pay the bills and now they were shelling out extra money for his mistake.

"I'm really sorry. I'll pay the fees out of me own paycheck," the young teen said quietly.

"That's nice and all, but you're forgetting we put all our money together. We're both paying for it. I mean damn, this is a big deal you know. At least it's not the rent, they'd kick us out if that didn't get paid," Sam continued. He stared at the boy's eyes, seeing the hurt and embarrassment in them, the bright blue turning gray; it was Rory's signature upset look.

The brunette was trying his best to stay stoic and not cry. That's when the anger suddenly struck him. "Ye' know, this isn't all me fault!" he bellowed. "Ye' knew I was gonna be away most of the month! Why didn't ye' send off the bills ye'rself? Did ye' think I was gonn mail them out from the hotel room? Are ye' incapable of handling the bills while I'm gone? Did ye' sit in the dark for two weeks too since I'm usually the one who turns on the light switch? Did ye' not eat since I do most o' the cooking?"

Sam huffed loudly, taken aback by Rory's sudden shift in attitude. It was unlike him to be so harsh and angry. "You don't have to be a smartass about it! Look, just get the checks out by Monday. Go ahead and do it now so you don't forget again." Wanting to retreat before either one of them made further jerks of themselves, he trudged back out of the room and to the couch. He plopped down on the cushions, tossing his feet up and grabbing the remote from the table. He turned on the TV and surfed through channels until he found something mildly interesting to watch.

Meanwhile, Rory was sitting in their room, trembling. He needed to calm himself down so he could write legibly enough to fill out the checks. He took the checkbook from the desk drawer and opened it, taking the first bill and filling out the information on the payment. As he signed his name, his stoicism failed him and he let the tears start to drip down his cheeks. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life, not even when his father had punished him in front of Sam. He had also never felt so upset with him, not since nationals anyway. He had made a mistake but Sam was being a total ass about it, just making the entire situation worse. At that point, he wasn't sure if he was crying out of humiliation or frustration and anger.

Sam could hear the quiet whimpers of the crying boy from the other room and frowned.  _Was I too harsh? I was kinda loud and yelling and stuff. He just has to know how serious it is. Maybe I went a bit overboard_ _._   _I was inda stupid not to think about the fact he wasn't here to pay the bills. I should have taken care of it. He had enough pressure as it was. It still wouldn't have hurt him to double check when he got back though._ He wanted to get up and run into the bedroom and hug him, but he forced himself not to. Rory needed a dose of tough love in this situation and as painful as it was for Sam, he had to stick to it. If he went and apologized now, it would just tell the teen that it wasn't a big deal. Besides, he had no idea what to say. He had been downright mean and rude about the whole thing when he should have just asked him about it calmly.

The blonde tried to drown out the sound with the television, but he couldn't block it out. His boyfriend was crying, and while Sam felt like Rory deserved to feel ashamed of his mistake, he couldn't stand just letting him sit there in tears. Rory was in the wrong, but as far as Sam was concerned, it would be even more wrong to just let him suffer. It was all the more criminal for him to continue sitting there acting like he wasn't just as guilty of being irresponsible and nasty with his outburst. He turned off the TV and got up, lurching to the bedroom.

Rory had his head down on the desktop, the envelopes neatly sealed and stamped next to him. He didn't notice Sam come in until the older boy placed his hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

"Ror?" Sam squeezed lightly on Rory's shoulder, wanting his attention. "Look, sorry I yelled at you. You just gotta understand how big of a deal it is."

Rory nodded his head without looking up. He was too ashamed of himself and entirely too angry to look at his boyfriend right now. He was afraid he might snap at him if he even tried to face him.

"Come on, sit up and look at me, will ya?" Sam asked. "Don't be mad at me for yelling, okay? I was a big asshole. I should have kept up with things while you were gone and I  _really_  shouldn't have just treated you like that."

Rory hesitated but finally sat up, but he still couldn't look up at his boyfriend. He sniffled as Sam touched his cheek, wiping the streaks of tears away with his thumb.

"I'm mad at ye' for being… dickish, but I'm not mad about ye' being upset about the bills," Rory said softly as Sam lifted the boy's head by his chin. "I'm sorry for the things I said. I was being dickish too. But only because ye' were doing it first. I'm sorry though. For the meanness and the bills."

"Okay, apology accepted if you accept mine. I don't like being mad at you and I don't like you being mad at me. It hurts too much. So… lets hug it out." Sam leaned down and embraced the boy, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Why don't you come out here and watch some TV with me for a little while? You have the whole weekend to do your homework and I think after all that haterade going on we need some snuggling to make up for it."

Rory swallowed, his eyes finally drying but his nose still feeling a bit runny. "In just a moment. I need to use the washroom first," he said. Sam half smiled and walked back to the living room to wait for him. Rory retreated to the bathroom a moment to wipe his nose and eyes and gather himself up before heading back out to Sam. Having finally gotten the rage and embarrassment out of his system, he was ready to relax. When he got to the couch, Sam reached out for him, pulling him into his chest and holding him tight.

"Let's watch something funny so we can laugh. Family Guy is having their millionth marathon on Fox. Sound good?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Rory said softly. They started to watch the show, but there was still slight tension in the air. Both boys had apologized, but Sam was still slightly upset, and somehow his boyfriend could sense it. At the commercial Rory picked up the remote and muted the sound. "I really am sorry for disappointing ye'." After a moment, he had to say one last thing on the subject. "But if ye' e'er talk to me like that again, Sammy, I'll shave ye'r head in ye'r sleep! Ye' big meanie!"

"Hey! I am  _not_  mean! But it's okay. You got in a few good ones too and we got it sorted out. If it happens again though, I'm taking a cue from your dad and going belting," Sam joked. Rory's eyes went wide at the threat. "Hey, kidding! I wouldn't do that. But I don't wanna ever fight like that again. We were both pretty vicious. Now watch the show. All this anger takes too much energy and we're supposed to be over it now."

Satisfied that Sam wasn't going to rekindle a tirade of angry words, the young teen relaxed and focused on the show, resolving to himself to set some sort of alarm on his phone to remind him to pay things on time. He didn't want to find out how mad Sam would get if he let it happen a second time and even more, he didn't want to find out what might come out of his own mouth if he was treated that way again.

-ooo-

Mr. Evans was still picking Sam and Rory up in the mornings to take them to school and work. The truck had been totaled but the insurance company was contesting fault over the incident and overall just wasn't wanting to pay out so they had yet to purchase a new vehicle. When he picked them up on Monday, there was a renewed tension in the air as they climbed in the mini-van.

"So, boys, wanna explain this to me?" Mr. Evans asked, handing an opened envelope to Sam. From the back seat, Rory could see the logo stamped on the front of the paper – the electric company.

Sam pulled out the sheet inside and scanned it. It was a copy of the identical notice they found in their mailbox over the weekend. Neither teen spoke as Sam pretended to be studying the text.

"You aren't having money troubles are you? We told you, if you can't afford to do this on your own…" Mr. Evans began.

"Don't worry dad, we got it under control. The checks didn't get mailed by accident," Sam interrupted.

"So  _all_  of the late bills didn't get paid  _by accident_?" the grown man replied. "You know we get copies of these bills too, being listed as secondary renters," he reminded them.

Rory mumbled from the back seat. "It was me own fault, sir. Not Sam's.  _I_  forgot to send out the checks, not him," he admitted, hanging his head. Mr. Evans could see his glum expression in the rearview mirror.

"Rory, you know you have to be more responsible than that," his host father stated. "If this kind of stuff isn't paid on time, you end up getting a lot of late fees, and in most cases, services shut off. It's winter, I doubt you want the power cut off."

"Yes, sir. I sent them out with the mail this morning," the younger teen said quietly.

Mr. Evans opened his mouth to say something else but Sam stopped him. "Let it go, dad. Please. I should have taken care of it while he was gone and I kinda tore him a new one over the whole thing and really don't wanna go there again. I was a pretty big jerk when we got the notices on Saturday. Somehow though I don't think it will happen again. Right?"

"Right," was all Rory could muster. Despite Sam's noble attempt to save him from more lectures, Rory could still feel his host father's disappointment in his voice. He wasn't sure which was worse—Sam having been upset with him, or Mr. Evans currently being disappointed in them both. He stared out of the window, watching the trees and buildings go by as they sat in awkward silence. When they pulled up to the school, Rory was anxious to get out.

The young teen paused by the passenger door, Sam opening it and leaning over to give him a chaste kiss. "Have a good day. Don't be mopey all day," the older teen said. He sent his boyfriend off with a smile, but it didn't help to clear the sadness from the boy's face.

"Sorry son, I wasn't trying to be a jerk, but this stuff is serious business. You know how much I hate having to be all authoritative and stuff," Mr. Evans said as they left the property.

"Trust me, dad. We won't let it happen anymore. When I said we had it out, I mean we had a pretty big fight over it. I was pretty nasty about the whole thing and didn't even give him a chance to explain. He got pretty mean back, but I think I deserved it," Sam explained. "It sucked. I don't like fighting."

His father cracked a smile, stealing an opportunity to lighten the mood with one of his jokes. "And here I thought tearing him a new one was a euphemism for something else."

"Oh Jesus, dad, really!?" Sam whined, putting his hand over his eyes and wincing. "Do you spend your free time coming up with this stuff? I mean that's really… messed up!"

Mr. Evans started laughing. "Son, you know by now it's just a natural gift! Where do you think you get all your cornball jokes and impressions from?" Sam simply rolled his eyes and sighed. "Glad you let him know how serious it is though but yelling at each other isn't the right way either. I know it isn't easy when your partner makes a mistake and you get mad. Even me and your mom fuss every now and then. It's how you handle it afterward that can make or break it."

"I dunno if I did the right thing on that one though. I went in the other room and could hear him crying," Sam admitted sheepishly. "I mean, he was pretty nasty to me too, but after all I said, I had it coming. I didn't mean to make him cry."

"So when you heard him cry, what did you do then, son?"

"I went in the room and apologized for yelling. Well, we apologized to each other and then talked it out, the way we should have to begin with. Oh, then we watched some TV."

"Sounds like you handled it just fine then. Afterward I mean. You made peace for yelling at each other, had a discussion like mature adults should, and then did something together. Not a bad way to handle the aftermath. I don't really encourage yelling at each other, but you're young. It doesn't surprise me. Just make sure you don't say anything in the heat of the moment that you might regret later," his father replied thoughtfully. "Anytime your mom and I get into it, we always make sure we apologize and make peace right away. Nothing's worth causing real trauma over. Although a good fight does make for some really awesome make-up sex later."

"Dad! Seriously!? You  _had_  to go there? Joking or not, that's disgusting!" Sam cried, making gagging noises. "I'm gonna start putting in earplugs when you're around!"

Mr. Evans laughed heartily, pleased that he had done his fatherly duty and at the same time been able to lighten the mood again.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Sam decided it might be a good time to ask for some advice that didn't include fights and bills. "Dad? I'm kind of… Well, I'm kind of worried about him. Sorta. I mean maybe worried isn't the right word, but I wonder a lot of things and I don't know if everything that I'm thinking about is right or not."

"What do you mean, son? You boys having bigger problems you wanna talk about?"

"No," Sam answered. "I'm just worried that everything going on might not be the best thing for him yet. I kinda made him grow up too fast. I don't want him to be resentful later. I dunno, just random thoughts I guess. I analyze everything I say and do though. I'm always worried if it's the right thing or not."

Mr. Evans thought for a moment before responding. He took advantage of a stoplight to look over at his first-born. "Sam, you've both grown up pretty fast. When I lost my job and you had to jump on the job wagon helping out with the money and all that stuff, you had to take on a lot more than a teenager should have to. I think because you grew up, it instilled a certain mindset on you and it might have rubbed off a bit on your boyfriend."

"Isn't that bad?"

His father shook his head, returning his attention to the road as the light turned green. "No. I mean, he grew up pretty quick considering everything he's been through. That attack, that right there changed a lot for him. And then moving in with you, working, I think maybe your mother and I might have pushed that a little too soon. You know it wasn't because we wanted you out of the house, right?"

"Of course I know that!" Sam exclaimed. "You told us before, you wanted us to get a head start on things, have freedom, make a home."

"Right. But maybe that was too much too soon. Our intentions were good, but maybe we pushed it too soon. We should have waited. You two deserve to enjoy being teenagers," Mr. Evans said solemnly. "You shouldn't be having to worry about bills and stuff yet."

Sam huffed. "Dad, maybe it was too fast. But oh well. We're in the situation, and we just have to deal with it. You guys were just trying to help, even if it might have been too early. Isn't responsibility about learning to handle tough situations?"

"Yeah, son. It's that responsibility part I wish we hadn't pressed so hard."

"Dad, I'm not gonna lie. Working, bills, all that crap? It sucks. It sucks hardcore. I don't know how you and mom put up with it all. The thing is, I  _like_  living with Rory on our own. I like having him to come home to every night, and we can have the whole place to ourselves. We can relax. I think it would have just been awesome if I could do it all on my own. If I could afford for him not to work, to just let me take care of him and let him be a teenager," Sam said.

"Do you honestly think he would let you do that? You know better. I get why you're so concerned. You're worried he'll cave to the pressure, that he will end up resenting you for pulling him into all this already. You should know better. He's  _your_  boyfriend. Quit worrying over him and have some faith."

Sam frowned. "I  _do_  have faith in him. I just want to make things easier for him. I came home the other night and he was in tears because he felt so overwhelmed."

"Sam, your mom and I get stressed and overwhelmed too. We handle it together though. She's cried on my shoulder plenty of times, and I've vented to her too. Don't be afraid to have a good crying session if you need it. Besides, think about this: Rory chose this path because he wants to be with you so badly. He knew what it entailed. There weren't any hidden agendas or secret requirements. He knew, and he chose to go through with it. You're not responsible for his decision. He chose to grow up, he just has to accept it," Mr. Evans went on.

"He told me he wanted to be a teenager again though."

"We all say stuff like that. You know what that means, son? It means he needs a break. A vacation. Remember your vacation to the lake? How much fun you had? Something like that would be a good idea. Make sure all the bills are paid up, all your obligations are taken care of, and then take a few days to have fun. No responsibilities. Just hang out, play video games, fish, sleep, screw, whatever else you boys do to relax. The important thing is that for that few days, you have nothing to worry about. No bills are due, you got the time off work. What's left to worry about? Nothing except what fun activity to do next."

Sam thought about that idea for a moment, ignoring his father's mention of 'screwing'. "That's so short though. Then we have to come back and deal with everything again."

"That's just life son, no matter how old you are. Teenagers go back to school and to their after-school jobs. Adults go back to work, pay bills, take care of the kids. Doesn't matter, but there will always be something you have to go back to. Look, spring break is right around the corner. Go to the lake again, or plan something else. Just get away for a few days, worry free. Take the kid somewhere and treat him like gold and I guarantee you he will feel refreshed when it's time to go back to life."

"You really think so, huh?" Sam asked. His father simply nodded, turning into the parking lot of the radio station.

"I'll leave you with this parting gift of wise words, Sam. Even though you both gained a lot of responsibilities, it doesn't mean you have to be sticks in the mud. You can still have fun and enjoy the same stuff teenagers do. Maybe not as often, but you still can. Quit worrying about the kid, have some faith in him, and work on that vacation," his father instructed. "You had that fight from too much stress all around and the best way to get over that is to do something special together, worry free."

Sam smiled wide. "Thanks, dad. I can always count on you to make me feel better."

"I just do what I do," Mr. Evans replied. "Now have a good day. Don't worry about all this crap right now."

Sam hugged his father and managed to get out of the mini-van. Before he shut the door, he turned to his father. "Hey dad? Give it up on the sex jokes. It's just too many kinds of awkward."

Mr. Evans grinned. "You shouldn't have said that. Now you know I'm gonna give ya'll a hard time. Get it?  _Hard_  time?"

"Dad, you are pure cornball," Sam replied, shutting the door.

All day long he thought about what his father's advice. He needed to work on some sort of vacation for the pair of them. Something they could both relax stress free and get rid of the inevitable tension waiting to rear its ugly head the next time something came up.

-ooo-

Sam had to pull a late shift at the station on Friday night, leaving Rory to be picked up by Blaine after work. They stopped to pick up drinks at the Lima Bean and headed on to the apartment. On the way there, Rory got a text message. He pulled out his phone, expecting to see Sam's name, but instead saw Andrew's.

_I know it's late but mind if Robert and I drop by for a few minutes? It's kind of important._

"That sounds a little scary," Rory said, reading the message aloud. "I hope e'erything's okay." He quickly typed out a reply.

_Is anything wrong? Can I help?_

Only a moment later and Andrew replied.

_Nothing bad! I promise!_

Now Rory was really confused. Whatever it was his friends wanted to see him about, it wasn't a crisis, but it was important.

_Come on over, see you soon!_

"I'm just gonna drop you off and head out. Whatever they wanna talk about might be private. Just text me later," Blaine said, pulling into the parking lot.

"I will. Sam should be home soon, too," Rory replied. He hugged Blaine, gathered his bag, and hurried upstairs. Blaine forced himself not to watch his friend go up the stairs. He used to stare at his perfectly shaped rear that looked so much like Kurt's when he walked, but ever since the big incident, he made conscious efforts to break his old habits.

Rory barely had time to use the restroom when the doorbell rang. He answered the door and Robert and Andrew stood there, carrying a briefcase. They all exchanged hugs as he invited the two men inside.

"So… ye' said e'erything was okay, so I'm kinda confused what's going on," Rory said, raising an eyebrow. "Does it 'ave to do with the Glee Club Project? I really don't know if I 'ave it in me to do another one."

"Nah, it's better than that," Andrew replied, grinning. "Mind if we have some tea? I'm parched." Without waiting for an invite, he and Robert sat down at the table while Rory retrieved some tea for them. When he returned, he joined them at the table, the briefcase on the tabletop, open.

"I don't know if Sam told you, but I won a big prize from a drawing at the Cincinnati Suites last week while I was up there for work," Robert began.

Rory nodded, remembering that Sam had said something about it, but not the details.

"Anyway, I won this prize, and it's really awesome, but the thing is, I can't use it," Robert continued.

"What did ye' win?" the teen asked, still not understanding where this was going.

Robert smiled wide as he pulled something out of the briefcase. It was a brochure for a luxury cruise ship. "This. Not the boat. I mean a cruise. A cruise for two, during spring break week. All expenses paid, except for casino and alcohol and whatever you do at the ports of call. It's worth a little over two thousand dollars."

The teen looked through the brochure, his eyes scanning over the beautiful pictures of the boat, islands, the casino, the dining hall, nightclub, and many other rooms on the ship. He couldn't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy. He had wanted to take Sam on a cruise since going with his parents over the summer, but money just didn't work out.

"So what do you think?" Robert asked enthusiastically. "Doesn't that sound really awesome?"

"Well, yeah. But I don't get it. Do ye' need us to watch ye'r cat or dog or something? Ye' know we don't mind, but why the rush? Spring break is still a couple weeks away."

Andrew spoke up, his smile lessening. "Well, Robert was gonna take me. Kind of a… chance for us to rekindle things if you know what I mean." He winked, a slight signal that told Rory things were looking up for the two men. Ever since they had dinner at Sam and Rory's, they had been talking constantly, even staying overnight at each other's places. It was obvious they were working on restarting their relationship.

"Was?"

"Yes,  _was_ ," Robert replied. "See, my grandparents aren't doing very well right now. They're moving into a nursing home and long story short, my family needs my help taking care of things with them. That kinda means I can't go on the trip."

Rory, still befuddled, nodded his head. "I'm sorry about ye'r gran and granpap. Let me know if we can help with anything, okay?"

"Well actually you can. Andrew and I talked it over, and we don't want this trip to go to waste. If we don't go, we lose it. The thing is, it doesn't have to be  _us_. We can give the tickets away if we want," the radio intern explained.

"Oh let me tell him!" Andrew piped up, fidgeting in his seat. "We want you and Sam to have the tickets! We want you two to go in our place!" he blurted out.

Rory's eyed widened and his jaw dropped open. "I'm sorry, I just hallucinated. What did ye' say?"

"We want you and Sam to take our tickets and go on the cruise! If you don't go, the tickets are gonna go to waste, and who better to go in our place than our favorite couple?" Andrew repeated.

"I.. Wow.. I don't know what to say…" the teen stammered. "That's a really generous thing. Don't ye' 'ave family or anything that want it?"

Robert shrugged. "Nah. We want you two to have the cruise. We talked it over; it's you guys we want to go." He pulled something else from the briefcase and slid it over to Rory. "See, two tickets, and it says right here, all expenses paid. That means the flight to Miami to get on the ship, and some extra amenities while you're there. Massages, spa time, stuff like that."

"Does Sam know about this?"

"Nope. We were hoping he'd be home by now actually," the intern replied.

Just then, the trio heard the front door unlocking and the door opening. "Hi honey, I'm home! I hope you're horny, it's been a really long day!" Sam called out with a laugh. When he passed the kitchen and came into the dining area, his eyes went wide and his face turned beet red. "I uh… I didn't realize we had company," he said nervously. "Sorry about that."

Their guests were laughing hysterically at Sam's faux pas, Rory averting his eyes to avoid looking at them, his face a deeper crimson than his boyfriend's.

"I guess we know what you guys will be doing when we leave," Robert said, trying to regain composure. "Sorry for the late visit, but we had something important to talk about with you guys."

Sam sat down at the table nervously. Late visits were never a good thing. They always meant something bad was happening. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Oh everything is just fine. We just need you to say yes," Andrew answered.

"Huh?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow. "Say yes to what?"

Rory beamed. "Come on Sammy, just say yes! Please!" he begged.

"Uh okay… yes?" He looked from friend to friend to partner. "What did I just say yes to?"

"An all-expenses-paid cruise during spring break, for two," Andrew said. "For  _you_  two."

"Wait, what?"

"Ye' heard right, Sam," Rory said, putting his hand on his boyfriend's arm. "The prize Robert won was a cruise, but he has family business to take care of, so they can't go. They want  _us_  to go instead," he explained.

Sam's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, just as Rory's had earlier. "Wait, wait, wait. A cruise? Free? Everything paid? Are you for real? You guys are pulling my leg, right?"

Rory cocked his head, bewildered. "Sam, I'm not touching ye'r leg."

"It's an expression," the other three said all at once, eliciting more laughter.

"No, we aren't joking. Look, here's all the information right here," Robert said, pushing the brochure and tickets toward Sam. "See, it's legit."

Sam looked over the brochure, overwhelmed by the glossy images as he turned the pages. "You mean you're giving us… this? This trip?"

"Mhmm," Andrew murmured. "Completely free, no strings attached. The two of you, on a cruise for a week. Airfare to Miami is included. All you have to pay for is alcohol and casino and whatever you do at port. Well, I guess not alcohol since you're underage."

"That's okay, we don't drink much anyway when we even have the chance to," Sam said quickly. Ever since their experiences with drinking earlier in the year and with Sebastian, they had no desire to let themselves get out of control again.

"Wow, I… I don't know what to say, I mean this is such a big gift! You're really sure you want us to have this?" the blonde asked, his eyes still glazed over as he stared at the pictures.

Robert and Andrew were both grinning like cats. "Yes! We want you to have it. And you already said yes so you can't back out! It's settled," Robert answered.

Rory was looking at Sam, his excitement obvious. "Can ye' believe this is happening, Sam? We wanted to 'ave something to do o'er break, and this comes up, and it's all paid for, and oh please say we can go! Please! Ye' said yes, so we just 'ave to go!" he pleaded.

"Yes, we'll go! We'll definitely go!" Sam said, leaning over and giving his boyfriend a chaste kiss. He then turned to his friends. "Thank you guys so much! This is huge. I don't know how I can ever return the favor. I mean.. just wow!"

"You can repay us by having the time of your lives," Robert said. "And some pictures maybe. And a really awesome souvenir or something. But really, just go and have fun. Just the two of you, completely relaxed and stress free for a whole week. Just leave all the crap at home and go have a great time."

Sam got up and wrapped his arms around his friend. "Thank you so much! This means so much to us," he said, tears of joy coming to his eyes. He let go of the embrace and then hugged Andrew. "I don't even know you that well and you're giving away this trip. You have no idea what that means to me."

"Trust me, after seeing Rory work so hard on the Project, you deserve it. Both of you," the designer replied.

Rory had gotten up and hugged Robert, then nudged Sam out of the way for his turn to hug Andrew. "Thank ye' so so so much. This is so awesome! I'm so excited!"

The group went on gushing over the trip, Robert passing over all of the important information, giving instructions on what they should take and so on. By the time they left, it was past eleven. Sam and Rory had both teared up over the gift, not believing what was happening and so grateful and excited.

Once their friends were gone, they went right to the bedroom, throwing their clothes off onto the floor and toppling onto the bed, kissing, their hands roaming all over each other. They made love for over an hour, the excitement of the evening driving their urges to higher levels. The adrenaline was pumping, fueling Sam's almost lethal thrusts into his boyfriend, whose moans, whimpers, and begging were so loud they were certain the neighbors were going to call the cops for noise disruption.

They didn't wake up until noon the next day, worn out from the night's rigorous activities. Still thinking they were in a dream, they finally realized everything was real upon seeing the tickets still sitting on the table.

 


End file.
